Baby, It's Cold Outside
by SignorinaSickfic
Summary: When Kurt falls sick during Glee Club one rainy afternoon, Finn has no idea what to do. So it seems it's Blaine to the rescue! But, when a harmless flu quickly takes a turn for the worst, can Kurt be saved in time? Rated just to be safe.
1. Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

**Author's Note:**

**This is a fic started for peacegal45. I can only post limited amounts right now because our contest isn't over yet, but more will be on the way! Basically we are working on our writing skills through the wonderful couple that is Klaine.**

**The story takes place between "Born this Way" (season 2) and "The Purple Piano Project" (season 3). **

**Spoilers: Shouldn't be any in there**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their respective owners (almost all of which are not me)!**

**Enjoy!**

**~PG22**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 1: ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE<strong>

It all began at glee club rehearsal one cold and rainy day.

"Alright, guys," Mr. William Schuester said enthusiastically, motioning for the group to settle down. Puck was shouting out something vulgar that was making most of the boys laugh, and Santana looked ready to kill him. Brittany and Mercedes were struggling to restrain her, and Will had to say specifically, "Puck, quiet."

When he finally had the attention of the whole room, he said, "Now, the song I picked out for today is just for fun, since you guys have been working so hard on the material for nationals." The group tittered excitedly as their leader passed out sheet music for _Spamalot's _"Always Look on the Bright Side of Life."

"Alright," Mr. Schuester said. "I want Finn and Kurt on the solos for this. Everyone ready?"

"Yeah!" Puck hooted, and Santana shot him a glare.

"Mr. Schuester?" Tina inquired, her hand raised. "I have a question."

"Yes, Tina?" Will asked.

"What's the point of this song?"

"Well, it's Monty Python, so really, there is no point," Will said with a chuckle. "Basically, it's just a fun song about cheering somebody up when they're feeling down and forcing them to look at the positives of life, which is something we really need to work on in here."

"I know I could use some of that," Artie said thoughtfully, and Quinn, who was sitting next to him, nodded in agreement.

"Dude, Monty Python's amazing," Sam told Mercedes. Mercedes smiled.

"I know," she said. "_Holy Grail _is one of my favorites."

"'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,'" Rachel said to Finn. "That's quite a mantra." Finn, who as usual wasn't listening to Rachel's constant prattle, looked up like a deer in the headlights.

"What?" He asked, oblivious. Then, realizing his mistake, he quickly said, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, totally." Rachel rolled her eyes.

Nobody noticed that Kurt was unnaturally quiet this rehearsal or that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He had barely moved since the meeting began, and even after being given a solo, he was still and silent.

"Alright," Mr. Schue said, bringing everyone back down. "Let's take it from the top. And five, six, seven - ?" It was then that he noticed Kurt's distant, glassy look and that the boy had yet to stand and join Finn up front.

"Kurt?" Will asked, brow creasing in concern. "Are you okay?" Staring into space as he was, the boy seemed not to hear him. Everyone shifted instinctively to stare at him.

"Uh, Kurt?" Finn asked. "Buddy?" He went around and snapped in the smaller boy's face a few times, suddenly pulling him out of his reverie.

"Hmm?" Kurt asked, snapping to attention and suddenly becoming alert. Will looked worried. So did the rest of the club.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" He asked.

"Fine!" He said hastily, pressing a hand to his forehead and wincing as he suddenly became dizzy. "Shall we begin?" He asked. Everyone looked a little uneasy.

"Okay," Will said, not one to want to pry. He figured that if Kurt really wanted to tell him what was going on, he would. "And five, six, seven, eight!"

It was blatantly obvious Kurt was not fine. His eyes were watering, his brow was furrowed in concentration, and his usually crisp soprano voice was raspy and throaty. He was not hitting his usual notes – and this song wasn't even that high! Kurt, meanwhile, was feeling sick to his stomach. He knew his voice was not up to par, and it was making him angry, but his body was hurting too badly for him to care about much else. When he turned away to sneeze roughly into his elbow in the middle of the song, Will decided that was evidence enough.

"Alright, stop!" Will called out. The notes from the piano died ominously. "Kurt, are you sick?" The boy shook his head gingerly, then closed his eyes as he felt suddenly dizzy.

"M-Maybe Puck should take the solo," he said meekly. "I think I lost my voice."

"Are you sure?" Will asked. "This is a good opportunity for you, Kurt." The boy nodded slightly.

"I'm sure," he promised. Will shrugged and looked at Puck, gesturing for him to come forward. The football player did and swapped sheet music with Kurt, who then migrated to the background. Will was feeling very concerned, but he had a rehearsal to head, so he let it go, starting up the music again.

Through the course of the meeting, Kurt got progressively worse. Bruise-like shadows were appearing under his eyes and he was feeling unbelievably cold despite the fact that he was positively dripping sweat from Mr. Schue's rigorous choreography. As he danced, he felt his stomach churn and his energy dwindle.

He was really feeling lightheaded when Mr. Schue had them run the whole thing from the top again. Halfway through the routine, Kurt saw black spots dancing across his vision. He noticed that all the boys were wearing tutus, and Finn was in a knight suit before he felt himself falling and saw the ground rush up to catch him.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! More on the way soon, but until then, reviews are loved, treasured, and appreciated!<strong>


	2. It Will Rain

**Author's Note:**

**Goodness gracious, guys! You sure do know how to make a newcomer feel welcome! After all the great reviews and feedback and for all of you who added me to your various alert lists, (and after a request from peacegal45) I have decided to keep this one going and to start updating regularly, even though our contest deadline isn't until the 16th (the day before Glee returns... clever, right?) and she isn't technically supposed to see it!**

**A big thank you to all of you who added me to your favorites and reviewed! You all are the reason I keep writing!**

**Also, I feel I should mention, this originally was supposed to be a (very long) oneshot, but since I wanted to release this as a preview for my friend, and also to add suspense, it will be a multichapter fic. I'm sorry for the short chapters. Hopefully there will be longer ones on the way!**

**Disclaimer: I don't know if I constantly have to say this, but I will anyway. All items belong to their respective owners, and I (sadly) do not own Glee. I don't want to think of what would happen if I did! XD**

**And now for the story!**

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><p><strong> CHAPTER 2: It Will Rain<strong>

"Kurt?" A worried female voice asked. "Kurt?" The sound of her voice was annoying and almost unbearable on his pounding head.

_Kurt_. That was his name: Kurt Hummel. That much he knew. But why was everything so dark and cold? Where was he? Who was calling his name? What was going on?

"Can he hear you?" A new and decidedly male voice asked. He knew he recognized that voice, but his head felt like it might explode at any moment. He tried to picture a face to match the voice, but couldn't.

"I don't know," the female voice said worriedly. Suddenly, the image of a girl with dark, straight hair and fair skin, with big eyes, big lips, and big personality that went with that distinct voice flashed to the forefront of his mind. But who was she? The name escaped him, yet he knew he knew her.

"What happened?" Another male voice asked through the blackness somewhere Kurt couldn't see. This person sounded like he was talking under water.

"I don't know," the dark-haired girl said again, this time sounding distraught and worried. "He passed out!"

"Well, we can see that, Captain Obvious," a new female sarcastic voice said, closer to him. This was a voice Kurt knew well, even in a disoriented stupor as he was. A name flashed across his mind like a neon sign at night. Mercedes. "Is he going to be okay?" Two firm but somehow gentle hands slapped his cheeks and tried to gently pry his eyes open.

"Kurt," another voice he knew said. "Kurt, wake up, buddy." Things were becoming clearer in his mind and he had no trouble distinguishing this voice as belonging to Mr. Schue. Suddenly, though, Kurt couldn't remember or fathom why any of them were there. He realized with a panic that he didn't know where "there" was. A cool, gentle hand touched his forehead.

"He's burning up," Mr. Schue said worriedly. "Rachel, please go get the nurse." Kurt tried desperately to force his eyes open. His head pounded intensely, and his stomach did a flip. He moaned softly.

"Hey, I think he's starting to wake up," a deep male voice said anxiously.

_Finn,_ Kurt thought blearily, picturing his step-brother in his mind's eye.

"Shh," Mr. Schue commanded. "Quiet." Kurt finally succeeded in his endeavor, barely opening his eyes and seeing the bright UV lights of the practice room. He shut his eyes again and groaned audibly before forcing his eyes open again to stare into the face of Mr. Schue, whose body blocked out the brightness.

"Mr. Schue?" Kurt asked groggily. "Where am I?"

"Shh," Mr. Schuester prompted. "You fainted a moment ago. You've got a fever. Rachel's going to get the nurse. Do you think you can stand?" Kurt attempted to sit up, then shook his head and lied back down as he suddenly got very dizzy and nauseas.

"Somebody, help me get him into a chair," Mr. Schuester said, and Finn immediately stepped forward. Finn came over, squatted down, and threw Kurt's left arm over his shoulder, wrapping a firm arm around the smaller boy's waist and hoisting him up to his feet. He led the boy to one of the plastic chairs. Kurt slumped down on it and attempted to smile at Finn, but it came as more of a grimace. Finn gave his step brother some space and sighed. He thought about how his mother was off work today and breathed a sigh of relief. At least Kurt would be well cared-for when he got home.

Just then, Finn's back pocket buzzed. He discreetly pulled it out. It was a message from his mother. He rolled his eyes. That woman had telepathy, he was sure about that.

_Had to go into work. Call me later,_ the message said. Finn groaned internally. So much for telepathy.

_Kurt's sick_, Finn typed back quickly. _Waiting 4 nurse. B hm in a bit_. Finn's mother's response was nearly instantaneous.

_Is he ok?_ Finn rolled his eyes again.

_He's fine, don't worry_, he typed. _Gotta go. Will call l8er_. Not bothering to wait for a response, Finn put the phone back into his pocket and looked anxiously over at Kurt.

The school nurse walked in briskly then, with Rachel in tow. The girl was breathless as though she'd run the whole way to the office and back. Her eyes were rimmed red as though she'd been crying.

"Thank you," Will said, breathing a sigh of relief. The nurse walked over to the chair and looked Kurt over speculatively.

"What do you think it is?" Finn asked nervously.

"Shh," Mr. Schue demanded. "Quiet, Finn. Let her do her job and then she'll tell you." The nurse continued to look over Kurt, gently laying a hand over his forehead.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Hummel?" She asked kindly.

"Not at all well," Kurt told the lady weakly.

"What hurts?" She asked.

"My head," he said, concentrating on not blacking out again. "And my muscles. And my stomach."

"Well, you've got a high fever," she told him. "There's been a nasty bout of the flu going around. I think you might have caught it. You passed out from high fever and exhaustion." To Will she said, "He needs to get home, right now."

"W-Wait," Finn said, his brow furrowing in that charming football jock confusion that tended to irritate rather than intoxicate Rachel. And his girlfriends in general. "Flu? But isn't that usually, like, vomiting and stuff?"

"Yes," the nurse said nodding. "Most of the time. If it hasn't started yet, it definitely will in an hour or two." Kurt listened to this in silence with his eyes closed and head pounding against the cold, plastic chair backing. He wished desperately to be home right now, in bed, sleeping off whatever this was. He didn't want people fussing over him as though he couldn't take care of himself.

"Thanks," Will said kindly, and the nurse nodded and left silently.

"I'll get him home," Finn volunteered.

"That's awfully kind of you, Finn, thank you," Mr. Schue said. "Let us know how he's doing later, okay?" Finn nodded lamely.

"Sure," he said, shouldering his backpack. The glee clubbers went over to Kurt's chair. Puck ruffled his unruly mop of hair good-naturedly. Quinn gently stroked his arm. Rachel and Mercedes each hugged him. Artie patted his knee. Brittany and Santana smiled and wished him good health. Mark and Tina both squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"C'mon, Kurt," Finn said, coming over to his half-brother and helping him stand.

Finn started to guide him toward the door when he said meekly, "I think I've got it. Thanks."

"If you're sure," Finn said, shrugging and disentangling himself from the boy.

"Drive safely," Mr. Schue called, deciding to adjourn the meeting then. "And the rest of you can go on, too."

"Bye Finn!" The Gleesters called, waving. "Feel better, Kurt!"

Outside, a steady downpour had begun and the wind blew in cold gusts, causing Kurt to start to shiver violently. Finn, always _never_ prepared, had no umbrella, so the two boys had to brave the rain all the way across campus to the far parking lot, where Kurt's father's truck was. On school days, the boys carpooled and took turns driving either their mom's or dad's car. Their parents carpooled as well. It was a compromise that worked for everyone. Kurt was thinking of this as he hastily got into the passenger's seat. Finn jumped in on the driver's side, his hair dripping wet. As he slammed the door and started the car, Kurt's seatbelt clicked ominously and he rested his cheek against the rapidly-fogging window.

"Dude," Finn said finally. "Why didn't you tell Mr. Schuester you weren't feeling good?" He backed out of the parking spot and began to drive. Kurt shrugged and sniffled.

"It's _well_, English genius," Kurt said sarcastically. "And I feel fine." Finn glanced over worriedly, turning on the windshield wipers.

"Really?" He asked. "Because you look like death warmed over," he added, using one of his mom's favorite expressions.

"Looks can be deceiving, you know," Kurt retorted, trying to redeem at least a little bit of his pride.

"Yours?" Finn said with a chuckle. "Never." Kurt rolled his eyes and stared out the window at the gray, bleak world as it whipped by.

"How embarrassing," he said after a time, partly to himself, and partly to Finn.

"What?" Finn asked.

"Passing out during Glee Club," Kurt clarified. "You hear about kids passing out in sports all the time, but while singing?"

"Chill out," Finn told him. "You have a fever. It's not a big deal."

Suddenly, the truck hit a bump. Kurt got really dizzy as a wave of vertigo washed over him. He suddenly felt nauseas and pressed his lips tightly closed, knowing full well what would happen if he didn't. He closed his eyes and tried frantically to think of something, anything else to distract himself. He felt his throat closing and took deep breaths through his nose.

_You will not throw up in front of Finn in your father's car,_ he thought to himself. _You won't._ He continued to try and will himself out of vomiting for another minute or so before Finn noticed he was shaking and whimpering with the effort.

"Dude," he said, "you okay?" Kurt shook his head mutely, still firm in his resolve to not puke all over the truck. Finn turned onto their street. Kurt continued to turn greener and greener. Finally, they pulled into the driveway. Kurt didn't even wait for the car to stop; he opened the door and ran to the side of the house, where he threw up in the trash can in the rain. Finn, horrified, pulled into the garage and got out, cutting the engine hastily as he did.

"Kurt?" He asked, barely noticing the sky open up and the rain shower heavily down on them both. Kurt was standing over the trashcan, rain soaking his jacket and his hair. He was shaking so hard he was having trouble remaining standing. He wiped his mouth off with a tissue from his coat pocket with a trembling hand. His skin was a pale, pale white, and under his eyes, the shadows had darkened considerably. His usually warm, inviting, baby blue eyes were dull, glassy, bloodshot, red-rimmed, and watery. He coughed harshly into his fist, his chest throbbing and aching.

"C'mon, man, let's get you inside," Finn said, placing a hand firmly on each of his step brother's shoulders and wheeling him toward the house. Rain had begun coming down in sheets as the two made it into the house. Finn dropped the keys onto the kitchen counter and stood in the middle of the walkway staring awkwardly at Kurt. He realized he wasn't exactly sure what to do next.

"I'm going upstairs," Kurt said, noticing his brother's discomfort and obvious lack of better ideas. Besides, he realized, he was dripping water all over Carole's recently-cleaned floors and was feeling uncomfortably cold and soaked.

"Good idea," Finn said immediately, relieved. "I'll call mom."

"'Kay," Kurt said, gripping the stair railing and making the long, painful, and perilous trek up the stairs on dreadfully shaking legs. He stumbled twice but did not fall. Once in his room, he had fully intended to put his pajamas on and curl up to sleep away the pain, but his bed looked so warm and inviting that he simply crashed, wet clothes and all, atop the freshly made sheets.

Meanwhile, Finn put in a call to his mom.

"Hello?" A frazzled-sounding Carole Hudson-Hummel answered.

"Hey, mom," Finn said. "'S me, Finn."

"Hi, honey," she said, sighing heavily. "How's Kurt?"

"Bad," Finn responded. He threw up a few minutes ago. The nurse said she thinks it's the flu."

"Where are you two?" She asked worriedly.

"We're home," Finn answered. "Should I, you know, call Burt?"

"No," she said. "I'll take care of it. He's working late tonight. Finn, listen, I need you to help me out, alright?"

"Yeah, all right," Finn said. "What can I do?"

"Just make sure he gets his pajamas on and gets into bed," she told him. "Get him a glass of water and have him take little sips, and take his temperature for me, okay?"

"Okay, mom," he said. "I'll take care of it."

"Oh, I know you will, sweetheart," she said gently and almost apologetically. "I'm just worried is all. This is the second time in under five months he's been sick."

"Mom, we're in high school," he said. "We're all always sick." Carole clucked her tongue.

"You're right," she admitted. "I'm overreacting a bit again. Just… just please take care of him, alright? He trusts you." Finn, not one for such affectionate statements and not really sure what to say next, felt his heart clench up.

"Okay," he mumbled. "No problem."

"Love you," Carole said. "Give him a kiss for me."

"Yeah, maybe I'll tell him instead," Finn said, blushing.

"Okay," Carole said lovingly. "See you soon."

"Bye," Finn said, and hung up.

The house sounded unnaturally quiet for being inhabited by two people. Finn listened closely and called Kurt's name a couple of times. When it became apparent to Finn that Kurt was obviously sleeping, he went to sit on the couch and watch some television.

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><p><strong>Sorry, still no Blaine in this part, but I promise, he'll be all over the next chapter! Sick!Kurt with no Blaine would be like no sun in August. Just wrong. Besides, this story's just getting started! As you already know, reviews=my motivation! So all are always appreciated! Thanks for reading, and more will be on the way soon!<strong>

**~PG22**


	3. I'll Be There For You

**Author's Note:**

**I can't believe how well this story is going! I owe it all to you guys really. Thanks especially to all of you who have reviewed. You're really helping keep me on track. I'm thinking the whole "secret story" thing is over, as this is chapter 3 already!**

**A quick note: In case you couldn't already tell, there will be vomiting in this story. If you don't really like that (and I totally understand where you come from) I would suggest not reading this part.**

**So, what does Kurt have? Is it merely a harmless flu, or is it something more painful, more dangerous, and more deadly? Well, you'll just have to wait and find out!**

**As promised, this chapter is very heavy on the loving, worried, caring, practical Blaine! XD So, sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Glee, as much as I really wish I did. Or anything else in this story that is not the plot.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 3: I'LL BE THERE FOR YOU<strong>

Only about ten minutes had gone by when the phone rang. Finn jumped a mile before coming to his senses and picking it up.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Finn?" Came a tense voice on the other end. Finn recognized it as belonging to Kurt's boyfriend, Blaine.

"Yeah?" Finn asked. "Is this-?"

"Blaine," the boy on the other end finished. "Hey. I was just trying to get ahold of Kurt, but he isn't answering his phone. Is something wrong?"

"Oh, yeah," Finn said. "Um, Kurt's sick… right now. He's sleeping, which is probably why he isn't answering his phone…."

"He's sick?" Blaine cut in worriedly. "How bad?"

"Pretty bad, man," Finn said. "The nurse thought it was the stomach flu. He's thrown up once-" a noise from upstairs caused him to lose his train of thought, "-make that twice in the last hour, and he fainted."

"I'll be over as soon as I can," Blaine said anxiously.

"Okay," Finn said, shocked. "See you soon." A click on the other end told him the Dalton boy had hung up. Finn flopped back down. When he heard nothing else coming from upstairs, he decided he'd go check on Kurt after Blaine arrived.

Blaine was there within another ten minutes.

Finn had barely opened the door before the worried boy had come straight in asking hastily, "Where is he?" and unwinding his scarf from his mouth.

"He's upstairs," Finn said. "I was waiting for you before I went to check on him." Blaine nodded. He and Finn stared awkwardly at one another for a fraction of a second before both turned and headed up the stairs. Finn lead the way with Blaine matching him stride for stride only one step behind, as the stairwell was too narrow for both of them.

Blaine gasped upon entering Kurt's room. The slightly younger boy was so pale he looked almost white sprawled out on top of his dark comforter. He was shivering, wet clothes soaking water in a dark stain onto his sheets. He was asleep, but obviously restless, coughing and wheezing every so often. He hadn't even taken his jacket off.

"Oh man," Blaine said, rushing over and crouching by Kurt's head next to the bed. "He's soaked to the bone. That can't be good for him." Kurt was curled up for warmth, his head resting on his hands much like a child, but his face was contorted in severe pain. Blaine gently, very gently, laid his hand on Kurt's forehead.

"He's burning up," Blaine commented. "Finn, do you know where he keeps his pajamas?"

"Um, I think," Finn said, going over to the drawer he was thinking of and cautiously opening it. He sighed in relief when he realized he'd chosen the right one. He'd never much liked going through other people's drawers, not even his mom's. For some reason, he felt that was the biggest and creepiest invasion of privacy ever. He imagined others going through his drawers and shuddered internally. This, however, was a different and more urgent matter entirely. He pulled out the first ones he touched and gave them to an awaiting Blaine, who set them down on the bed and gently rolled Kurt onto his back. The boy stirred.

"B-Blaine?" He asked blearily, his brow wrinkling in confusion. He blinked up at his boyfriend, wondering if it was all a hallucination of his painfully throbbing head.

"Hey, babe," Blaine said softly. "I heard you were sick, so I came by to see what I could do."

"Thanks," Kurt said bashfully, "but I'm really not sick."

"My pleasure," Blaine answered, grinning lopsidedly. "And _sure_ you're not." Then, to a rather uncomfortable-looking Finn, he asked, "Could you please get me a washcloth soaked in cold water?"

"Sure," Finn said, grateful for an excuse to leave the room and be somewhat helpful at the same time. He wet the cloth, wrung it out, and came back a few seconds later, holding the strip of material carefully. He handed it to Blaine.

"Thanks," Blaine said gratefully. He folded the cloth in half twice and set it on the bedside table. Kurt whimpered softly.

"What's up?" Blaine asked, turning his attention to the sick boy.

"Nothing cold, please," he begged. "I'm freezing."

"Shh," Blaine prompted. "Relax, baby. Let's just get you changed first, okay? Then we'll worry about all that." Disoriented, Kurt nodded. Blaine had already managed to remove Kurt's coat and shoes and was gently easing his shirt off over his head. Kurt shivered and crossed his arms tightly, trying to maintain some body heat. Blaine slid the pajama top over Kurt's head while Finn averted his eyes to give him some privacy. Once that was done, Blaine handed Kurt his pants.

"I trust you'll want to take care of this yourself?" He asked.

"Yes," Kurt said meekly, forcing himself to stand up on shaky, wobbly legs. He almost fell forward, but Blaine caught him and steadied him. Kurt took the garment from him and on shaking legs began to undo his belt. As an afterthought, he added, "Nobody look." Both boys chuckled slightly and looked away. Once Kurt was finished, Blaine pulled the covers back.

"I have a feeling you'll be much more comfortable this way," he said. Kurt lied down and pulled the covers up under his chin, still shivering. Blaine picked up the cold cloth and laid it across Kurt's forehead.

"There you go," Blaine said softly. "Better, right?" Kurt blinked hazily and nodded.

"Mom wanted me to take his temperature," Finn said, remembering. Blaine nodded, his eyes never leaving Kurt.

"That's a good idea," he said. "Where do you keep your thermometer?"

"I'll get it," Finn volunteered, and ran to the bathroom to retrieve it.

While Finn ransacked the medicine cabinet, Blaine used the cloth to gently skim away the sweat on Kurt's face. Kurt sighed and closed his eyes, suddenly aware of how tired and achy he really was. His chest was tight and his stomach muscles were contracting painfully. Finn came back in with the little electronic thermometer and a glass of cold water, which he set down on Kurt's bedside table. He handed the thermometer to Blaine, and watched with mild interest how gently Blaine handled the situation. He put the thermometer to Kurt's lips.

"Hey, open up for me," he requested. Kurt opened his eyes and blinked up at him, his eyes red and watery. He was so tired he wanted to cry, but slowly, slightly, his lips parted and Blaine slid the thermometer under his tongue.

"Now, no talking," he reminded Kurt. It took only a moment for the thing to beep. Blaine pulled it out and turned it over in his hands, looking for the LED screen. He read the tiny number and nearly choked on his own spit.

"What is it?" Finn asked anxiously.

"It's 102.7," Blaine said, swallowing hard.

"Wow, that's… that's bad," Finn said, unable to say much else.

"It'll be okay, though," Blaine promised quietly. Then, to Kurt he suggested, "Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

"Okay," Kurt said, unwilling to protest and not needing to be told twice. He readjusted himself and, curling up, closed his eyes.

"Blaine?" He asked sleepily.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Blaine asked.

"Would you please stay?" Blaine's heart clenched. He smiled.

"Of course," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Finn turned to leave, understanding that he was no longer needed and that Kurt just needed Blaine's comfort and expertise right then.

"I'll be… in my room," he said awkwardly..

"Mmmkay," Kurt murmured languidly as Blaine wrapped a safe, comforting arm around him and pulled him in close.

"Just… remember to keep the door open," Finn added, feeling like a father and wishing he didn't. He hated himself for trying to act like an adult when he could barely manage to take care of his own step brother when he needed it.

"We will," Blaine promised, gently kissing the top of Kurt's forehead, above the cloth.

Finn nodded and left the room with a quick, "Call me if you need anything." Great. Now he sounded like his mom. He decided to simply stop speaking before anything else embarrassing or mildly parental came out of his mouth. He retreated to his bedroom where he fired up his Xbox and started to play Black Ops.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Blaine had turned on the television but muted the sound and ran his fingers gently through Kurt's messy, unkempt hair. Kurt curled into the other boy's chest, with his cheek resting on Blaine's sternum. Kurt sniffled and coughed roughly, bucking forward a few times. Blaine gently and soothingly rubbed his back.

"I feel awful," Kurt moaned softly.

"Shh," Blaine said. "Don't talk. Just try and sleep. You'll feel better, I promise." Kurt nodded into Blaine's chest, but just before he could relax, he suddenly pushed himself up, looking a sickly green.

"Blaine…," he said anxiously. Blaine shot up and grabbed the trash can hastily, handing it to Kurt and climbing over to sit next to him. Kurt leaned over and vomited into the can. Blaine rubbed his back soothingly with the heel of his hand and sat by, silently and patiently. When it was all over, Blaine set the trash can aside and got up to get Kurt some mouthwash.

"That didn't look too pleasant," Blaine said sympathetically once Kurt had managed to stop coughing and clean himself off a little. He merely groaned softly in disgust. He rinsed his mouth out thoroughly and then Blaine handed him the glass of water Finn had gotten.

"Take little sips," Blaine instructed. "It'll help you feel better." Kurt silently obeyed, taking the glass from Blaine and cautiously sipping at it. It made his stomach churn, but at least it cooled his throat a little. When he was done, he pressed the glass back into Blaine's hands. He, in turn, set it back on the bedside table.

"Lay back down," Blaine soothed, rubbing circles into Kurt's lower back gingerly. Hesitantly, Kurt did so, curling back up with his head in his hands. Blaine sat next to him, continuing to rub his back. Kurt relaxed at the other boy's touch and finally allowed his eyes to close. He was asleep before he even had the time to thank his wonderful and amazing boyfriend.

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><p><strong>As always, reviews are what motivate me to write more and update often! Things are going to get much worse, I promise, but for tonight, I'll just let him rest!<strong>

**Love you all! Ciao!**

**~PG22**


	4. Cold Sweat

**Author's Note: Thanks everyone, for your kind words of encouragement. I meant to update sooner, but things came up, and we all know how that is!**

**I've already noticed some of you trying to figure out the mystery of what Kurt has. You'll all know soon enough!**

**I'd like to offer a shout-out to the girl for whom this fic was written, whose computer is currently defective. Peacegal45, hang in there! This one's for you! I hope you get to see it soon!**

**Disclaimer: When Glee comes back in 4 days, I do not get paid. Therefore, I do not own Glee!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 4: COLD SWEAT<strong>

A couple hours later, Kurt was up vomiting. He shook hard as he puked, feeling the cold of the bathroom floor tiles seeping into his skin and the warm, wet tears of pain sliding down his cheeks. Blaine sat down next to him and ran his fingers through the sick boy's hair. Kurt choked violently before coughing weakly, gasping for breath, and slumping back against Blaine. He was shivering hard. He attempted to wipe his mouth off with a trembling hand.

"Here," Blaine said soothingly, using a washcloth to clean off Kurt's mouth for him when it was apparent that the boy was shaking too hard to do much good. "There you go," he said. "You're fine."

"It's freezing," Kurt commented, clenching his teeth together to keep them from chattering. His pajama top was drenched in sweat, which was not helping him in the least bit. Sleep had done nothing to help heal him. He looked, if anything, worse than before. He wanted desperately for Blaine to just hug him tightly and kiss the pain away, but he was too shy and embarrassed to ask.

"Why don't you change your shirt," Blaine suggested going over to the drawer where Finn had found Kurt's pajamas earlier and pulled out a new top, handing it to the weak, trembling boy. He quickly pulled it on, shaking with chills, even after the new, warmer, drier shirt was on. Blaine was feeling awfully confused as to why, until he felt Kurt's forehead.

"Baby, you're still burning up," Blaine said.

"I feel awful," Kurt murmured, and Blaine tenderly kissed his boyfriend's cheek.

"It's okay," Blaine promised. "I'll stay with you." Kurt closed his eyes and allowed Blaine to embrace him tightly, silently thanking whatever god had heard his quiet plea for this. He felt so safe and comfortable in those loving arms that it made him want to cry. He inhaled through his nose, and besides making an embarrassing liquidy sniffling sound, he smelled Blaine's sweet scent and relaxed a little.

"Kurt, honey, let's get you back into bed," Blaine said worriedly. The boy was radiating heat and yet shivering hard in Blaine's arms. Blaine knew the chilly bathroom floor would merely make it worse.

Kurt attempted to stand, but his legs trembled so hard he nearly fell to the floor. Blaine caught him mid-fall and scooped him up in his strong arms, sliding an arm under his knees while his other arm wrapped around Kurt's upper back. Kurt's arm involuntarily snaked around the back of Blaine's neck. The slightly taller boy curled himself into Blaine, burying his face into the nape of Blaine's neck. He was too sick to even protest the fact that his boyfriend was indeed carrying him to his bed, and also too sick to care how embarrassing and disgusting it was.

Once in bed, Kurt pulled the covers up, trying to get warm. Blaine took the cold washcloth and rewet it in the bathroom. He then came back and gently touched it to Kurt's temple. The boy jumped a mile and shuddered as the pressing coldness shot down his spine. But then, as if by magic, the cool touch stopped shocking him and made him feel much better, and he relaxed slightly.

"There," Blaine said breathlessly. "Better, right?" Kurt nodded slightly and sighed. He was still shivering, but the cold cloth felt good against his fiery, feverish skin.

"Thanks," he murmured. Blaine smiled looking into his boyfriend's beautiful baby blue eyes.

"No problem," he said, winding the now hot part of the cloth underneath itself and touching a new, cooler corner to Kurt's temple. He then sat down on the edge of the bed and caressed his boyfriend's face gently with the washcloth, trying to cool him down.

"It's cold," Kurt complained softly. Blaine smiled apologetically, taking Kurt's icy hand in his free one.

"I know, babe," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I promise once your fever goes down it won't feel so cold."

Kurt clenched his teeth and allowed the other boy to mop down his feverish, clammy forehead with the washcloth. He tried very hard to hold still. Every so often, he would squirm faintly and gently squeeze Blaine's hand.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked sympathetically. "Are you in pain?" Kurt nodded slightly, biting his lower lip.

"Yeah," he said in a small voice.

"Where does it hurt?" Blaine asked anxiously.

"M' head," Kurt murmured weakly "My muscles. A-And my stomach."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry," Blaine said. He thought about giving Kurt something to alleviate the pain, but he decided against it, figuring it would just make the poor boy throw up again. "Just close your eyes. Sleep will make you feel much better." Blaine set the cloth on Kurt's forehead and gently massaged Kurt's temples. Because Blaine seemed to know what he was talking about, and also because his gentle rubbing was helping with Kurt's headache, and because he was feeling anything and everything but argumentative, he snuggled in close to Blaine and curled up for warmth, closing his eyes.

About an hour later, Kurt was aware of the phone ringing, but he figured Finn would pick it up, so he tried to readjust and fall back asleep, as being awake was not helping him. His throat was on fire and his stomach turned painfully. His chest was tight and achy. He sniffled liquidly, realizing he couldn't breathe. Suddenly, as if by a miracle, a tissue appeared out of nowhere and clamped over his twitching nose. Kurt looked up in alarm to see that an arm that was attached to his boyfriend was holding that tissue.

"Blow," Blaine said. Kurt blushed, which made him look even worse with his pale skin.

"But-" he started to argue, but Blaine cut him off.

"Uh-uh-uh," Blaine said cheekily. "No buts. Blow. You'll feel better."

_He's beginning to sound like a broken record, _thought Kurt as he closed his eyes and braced himself for what he was about to do. He inhaled slightly through his mouth, then, disgustedly, he gingerly blew into the soft cottony fibers. Doing this did release some of the stuff that was blocking up his nasal passages, and also relieved some of the pressure in his head. Cautiously, he blew again, a little harder this time.

"There you go," Blaine encouraged. "See? Much better, right?" Kurt nodded shyly as Blaine tossed the used Kleenex and grabbed another one for him. They repeated the same exercise twice before Blaine decided that was good enough. Just then, Finn burst into the room. Kurt blushed slightly, grateful Blaine had decided to stop with the tissues when Finn entered.

"Hey, dude, didn't know you were still up," Finn said.

"Yeah, well, according to Blaine, I shouldn't be, but what's up?" Kurt said in a matter-of-fact voice that caused him to erupt into fits of coughing. Blaine didn't even register the karma of this situation; he went over to Kurt and helped him sit up, making him take little sips of water.

"So, that was Burt on the phone," Finn said. "Blaine, he seemed a little surprised to hear you were here, but he said he was glad, so I guess that means he must think I'm completely useless." Blaine smiled, and so did Finn. Finn then looked at Kurt. "He sounded really worried about you, bro," Finn continued. "He said he's going to try to come home as soon as he can, but it probably won't be for a few hours." Kurt nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"Thanks, Finn," Blaine said appreciatively. Finn nodded and ducked out of the room.

As soon as Finn was gone, Kurt dropped himself back against his pillow and moaned.

"How could I have let this happen?"

"Hey, relax," Blaine said, placing a firm hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Don't work yourself up. You worry entirely too much." Kurt shrugged listlessly.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked worriedly.

"No," Kurt said. "But I'll be fine."

"Why don't you get some rest before your dad gets home?" Blaine suggested. He didn't need to add what else he was thinking; Kurt knew. He could see it in Blaine's eyes and knew it himself. _Before your dad gets home and people try to start fussing over you_, he meant. Kurt was appreciative of this; Blaine knew him so well. He knew Kurt hated a big production made over him when he wasn't feeling well. Blaine had to be the best boyfriend ever, Kurt thought to himself, and closed his eyes. Blaine sat by the bed and took Kurt's hand in his own, rubbing small circles soothingly into the boy's palm and kissing his warm forehead.

"Please get better, baby," he whispered, half to himself, and half so Kurt could hear. Little did he know that they were dealing with much more than any of them had bargained for.

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><p><strong>For the record, I really can't listen to any of the Kurt and Blaine duets while I write this! Haha! I'm sorry nothing really major happened in this chapter. I promise more action will come in the next one! Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for reviewing! More to come in the near future. <strong>

**Ciao for now,**

**~PG22**


	5. Leave Out All the Rest

**Author's Note: **

**So, it's the eve before the big night everyone! In honor of the best and most beautiful pairing on Glee - I needn't name names I don't think! - and because tomorrow night can't come soon enough, I am posting this next chapter a little early for you all! Consider it a present!**

**So the deadline between peacegal45 and i did fall through for those of you who care, and this fic is still (obviously) in progress... major progress. We're nowhere _near_ done yet! ****Things are about to get dicy, sad, completely awkward, and dangerous - very dangerous indeed. Expect the unexpected.**

**Thanks again to everyone who has graced me with their wonderful reviews and comments! I love hearing from all of you.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee every episode would center around Kurt and Blaine, and Sebastian wouldn't exist. (Which, technically speaking, would not be a bad thing...!) **

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 5: LEAVE OUT ALL THE REST<strong>

Not even an hour later, the sound of screams shattered the peaceful silence and alerted a newly startled, near-dozing Finn to the bedroom. The large boy burst in, fearing for what he might find.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" He cried in alarm. Blaine was up and at Kurt's side, looking as worried, scared, and shaken up as Finn felt.

"I don't know!" Blaine yelled. "One minute, he was sleeping peacefully, and the next…!" Blaine gestured helplessly at the boy in bed. For once, the usually calm and collected Warbler was at a loss for words as he stared down at his boyfriend hopelessly, afraid.

There were streaks of hot, salty tears trailing down Kurt's flushed cheeks as he screamed and thrashed about, caught in the throes of a nightmare. He was undergoing his own psychological torture as images of bullies and the giants on the football team danced in his head. He felt as though he was trapped under a pile of heavy stones, getting slushied repeatedly in the face until he was reduced to a panting, achy, trapped, shivering, sobbing wreck.

"Mom!" He called out softly between loud, frenzied screams and soft, shuddery sobs. He watched her die again in his nightmare as he had so many times as a boy, only this time the scene changed and it was _he_ lying in a hospital bed – no, strapped to it – and he was staring at a dying Blaine while some faceless demon prepared a lethal injection that was undoubtedly for him. The idea of this scared him awake, and he screamed at the top of his lungs, shooting up in bed and bolting to the bathroom to be sick while still confused and very much disoriented. Finn and Blaine were too completely stunned to be of any use. Both of them stared openmouthed at one another and at the now-vacated bed, and neither seemed capable of moving.

Finally, Blaine sprung into action. He ran into the bathroom where Kurt was rolled up into a tight ball in the corner, shivering and convulsing with sobs. He was so sick, Blaine realized, and in such need of comfort and human tenderness, though he himself was too proud to ever admit it. Blaine squatted next to the trembling Kurt and gently stroked his cheek. Kurt simply sobbed harder, but he also threw his arms around his boyfriend's neck. Blaine was caught off guard by this, but, not knowing what else to do, he scooped up the weak and vulnerable Kurt and brought him back to bed, where he sat down with him and held the sick boy in his arms, facing away from Finn. Kurt's head rested on Blaine's chest as he sought out this comfort, this love. He hugged the other boy tightly in response, allowing himself for once to be coddled, fussed over, and generally humiliated. Blaine continually kissed his boyfriend's forehead and cheek, gently hushing him, trying to quiet his crying.

"Shh," he kept repeating, over and over. "It's okay. Oh, baby," Blaine crooned tenderly, fingering Kurt's fringe lovingly. "Nightmare?" Kurt merely curled tighter into Blaine and nodded against him.

"Kurt, you never told me you had night terrors," Finn said, hoping that was the right term for them and speaking up for the first time. Kurt sniffled and mumbled something shaky and unintelligibly.

"Sorry, baby, didn't quite catch that," Blaine said softly. "Say again?" This time, Kurt tipped his head slightly so his mouth wasn't buried in Blaine's Warbler blazer.

"It never came up in conversation," he said, softly, shakily, and yet somehow defensively.

"Is there any way I can help?" Finn asked kindly. Kurt, taken aback by such kindness from Finn, sighed and shook his head, seeming to calm down a little. His haywire breathing slowed down considerably.

"No," he said weakly, taking a deep, shuddery breath. "It's something I've had to deal with since my mom died, and I have to deal with it alone. But thanks."

"Okay," Finn said uncertainly, unconvinced. "I'm here for you, you know."

Kurt didn't know how to respond to this, so, taking another shaky breath, he merely said, "Thanks."

"Kurt, baby?" Blaine asked, suddenly wary of a scary fact. "You're hotter than before. I think your fever spiked."

"I don't feel well," Kurt responded, clinging tightly to Blaine and closing his eyes to try and ease some of the pain in his head that he figured was coming from all the light and action. Blaine touched the back of his hand to Kurt's forehead and winced. Kurt instinctively leaned into the cool touch, mostly without knowledge of even doing it, as it felt so good on his feverish skin.

"You're really _really_ warm," Blaine commented nervously. "Finn, could you hand me the thermometer? I don't want to jostle him too much." Finn grabbed the device off the bedside table and handed it off to Blaine as quickly as he could. Blaine stuck it blindly into Kurt's mouth and under his tongue. Kurt remained in the other boy's warm, loving arms, shivering and clenching his eyes shut as a tear escaped him. Blaine brushed it away with his thumb. He calmly brushed a wayward strand of hair off Kurt's sweaty forehead. When the thermometer beeped, Blaine took it and read it.

"Oh god," he said, paling at the readout.

"What?" Finn asked worriedly, his brow creased in concern.

"It's _really_ high," Blaine squeaked out in a voice that was an octave higher than normal.

"As in?" Finn asked, sauntering over to where Blaine sat, staring at the blasted little window and willing it to say something different.

"As in 103.5," Blaine said in a small voice. Then, looking up at Finn he murmured anxiously, "He's getting worse. Can you go grab some ice chips from your freezer? We need him to not get dehydrated.

"Um," Finn said intelligently. "I don't think we have ice chips in our freezer. Would a cube work?"

"Finn, really?" Blaine snapped, gritting his teeth as he felt Kurt's shivering pick up dramatically. The sick boy whimpered and buried his face in Blaine's chest.

"Hurts," he moaned weakly.

"Shh, just hold on, baby, okay?" Blaine said hastily. "Hold on. I know it hurts, but I'm right here. I've got you." Then, to Finn, he said, "Either break the ice cubes or else just bring me shards and shavings. _Think, _Finn! We're not trying to choke him!" Finn nodded mutely and dashed off to the kitchen to get some ice.

"Baby, I'm going to lay you back down now, okay?" Blaine said tenderly, breathlessly. But, as he made as if to move, Kurt latched onto him, whimpering slightly and startling the Dalton boy.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked gently. The younger boy lifted his tearstained face to gaze pleadingly up at his boyfriend.

"Don't leave me," he begged.

"Kurt, I'm not going to leave you…," he said, but trailed off as he noticed the evident and genuine look of fear on his boyfriend's face. Moved with compassion, Blaine only held Kurt tighter.

"I won't leave you," he promised soothingly. "Just relax. I'm here." Blaine spent the next few minutes running his fingers through Kurt's hair. Loud, obnoxious smashing and shattering sounds could be heard from downstairs, telling Blaine that Finn was not only going to town on that ice, but also irritating Kurt's flaring headache. Blaine took the blanket off the foot of Kurt's bed and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders as he shivered in Blaine's arms.

"I feel dizzy," Kurt murmured. It was true: the room seemed to have begun spinning around him. Even when he closed his eyes, he sensed and felt movement around him that made him feel like passing out or throwing up or both.

"It's okay, it's only the fever," Blaine said, but he worried it could possibly be something worse. Kurt coughed and Blaine eyed him nervously.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked. "Do you need anything? Water?" Kurt shook his head.

"'M fine, Blaine," he promised languidly. Blaine laughed sarcastically.

"_Yeah,_" he said. "No, you're not fine. Just relax."

Suddenly, Finn arrived, carrying a bowl of ice shards and chunks, all of different sizes and shapes.

"How's this?" He asked Blaine nervously. Blaine looked at the bowl critically, then gently took it.

"Perfect," he said grudgingly. He had been expecting the jock to fail. "Thank you."

"No problem," Finn replied, sitting down beside the other two boys and placing a firm, protective hand on Kurt's knee. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not at the moment," Blaine said listening to and freaking out about Kurt's labored breathing. He reached in and pulled out a small ice chip from the bowl which was currently balancing precariously on his knee. Finn took charge then and grabbed the bowl before it could crash to the floor.

"Thanks," Blaine murmured. "Kurt, honey? Let's try some ice, okay? It will make you feel better."

"But, my stomach…," Kurt trailed off. Blaine brushed the sweaty bangs from his eyes.

"This might settle it," Blaine offered. Kurt blinked tiredly up at him.

"Okay," he said softly, uncertainly. He opened his mouth shyly on Blaine's command and Blaine handed him the piece of ice. Kurt chewed gently, wincing as it hurt his head and jaw.

"Maybe try just letting it melt," Blaine said, frowning as he saw Kurt's pained expression. Kurt nodded. Finn offered Blaine another chip from the bowl, which he accepted and gave to Kurt. He closed his eyes and let it melt. It was cold and caused him to shiver, but it felt good on his sore throat and warm body, cold and wet as it was. He allowed Blaine to feed him the ice chips, feeling dazed and out of it. He slowly made it through four or five more with no problems. The other two boys shared a glance and finally, silently, started to relax. Blaine took his boyfriend's hand and squeezed it tenderly. Suddenly, though, Kurt's eyes flew open. He felt paralyzed by the sharp shot of nausea that blasted through his body, overtook him so violently and abruptly, and clouded every rational thought in his head.

"Kurt?" Finn asked anxiously.

"What's wrong?" Blaine demanded.

"Bucket," Kurt managed to choke out in a strangled voice. "N-Now." Finn shot up and fumbled around before grabbing the trash can and throwing it under Kurt just in time for him to latch onto it and throw back up the water he'd just had. Blaine cursed under his breath as he gently rubbed his boyfriend's back. Kurt choked painfully, trying to hold back the tears of humiliation and pain he felt stinging his eyes. Blaine held him tightly and waited until he was sure he was finished before setting the can down and kissing Kurt's forehead.

"Oh, sweetheart," Blaine murmured, helping the boy clean off as best he could. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm… okay," Kurt said, breathing heavily and trying to get a grip on himself. He was feeling like quite the child and loathing himself for it. He was seventeen. He should have been able to take care of himself.

"No, you're not," Blaine countered, grimacing. "I guess you really can't keep much down, then, huh?" Kurt shook his head miserably. He scrunched his eyes shut and gripped Blaine's hand.

"Hurts," he croaked out in a raspy voice. A single tear of pain slid down his flushed cheek. Blaine bit his lip.

"What hurts?" Blaine asked worriedly.

"My whole body," Kurt moaned. "Like someone ran me over with a truck and then set me on fire." Blaine shut his own eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he promised, gently rocking Kurt's body back and forth as he whimpered softly.

"Blaine," he whimpered softly, tearing up in pain. "Please. Make it stop." His head was spinning and he was losing control of himself very quickly. He could feel he wasn't thinking clearly or rationally anymore, and it was killing him. He hated losing the ability to remain clear-headed and rational in a situation – the last time it had happened, he'd been kissed by Karofsky. Thinking of that made him shudder and feel like throwing up again.

"I'm trying, sweetheart, I promise I am," Blaine murmured, feeling like his heart was being ripped out, seeing his love in so much pain and knowing he was unable to do much of anything about it. Finn patted his stepbrother's knee while Blaine affectionately stroked Kurt's hair. Kurt quieted and began to doze against Blaine's shoulder.

"Do… do you think this is serious?" Finn asked nervously. "I mean, should we take him to the hospital or something?" When he got no answer from Blaine – not even a sign of movement – he went on, "Or maybe I should call my mom or Burt? I'm sure they'll know what to do…."

"Finn!" Blaine snapped. "Shut up for a second. I'm thinking." He tipped his head back slightly and took a deep breath. Finn closed his mouth in alarm.

_Think, Blaine, think!_ Blaine thought to himself frantically. _He's hot as hell, he's shivering like crazy, his body hurts, he's throwing up every few minutes, he's getting dehydrated, he's having nightmares and all you can do is sit here and hold him! __**Think**__! _First things first: he had to get Kurt's fever down. A fever reducer that doubled as a painkiller would have been perfect right then, but since Kurt couldn't hold anything down, the point was moot.

"What about the bathtub?" Finn asked as though he'd read Blaine's mind, so quietly Blaine almost didn't hear him.

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked, opening his eyes and looking over at Finn as if he was some foreign object he'd never seen before. Finn shrugged uncomfortably under Blaine's strange gaze.

"I mean, that's what my mom used to do for me when I was sick as a kid," Finn explained. "She just let the water cool me off. I figure we probably need to bring his fever down, right?" Blaine shook his head incredulously, wondering why he hadn't been the one to think of that.

"Yeah," Blaine said finally. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Only one problem," Finn said, eyeing Kurt dubiously.

"What's that?" Blaine asked.

"How do we do this in the least awkward way possible?"

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><p><strong>Reviews would be ever so lovely! I wanted to end it on a little funnier of a note than the last one. But more drama and angst to come, I promise!<strong>

**Until then, goodbye and goodnight!**

**~PG22**


	6. Fever

**Author's Notes: Okay, so, chapter six is here everyone! And to those of you who are wondering, _yes_, I changed the rating due to a (brief) bathtub scene (no nudity, I promise I'm not that far gone yet) and some... er... minor implications of... possible suggestive stuff. So, I hope that doesn't change anything. Sorry, kids, if you can't read anymore!**

**So, illustrations may be posted on my profile in the future, but you'll just have to wait and see if it works out!**

**Thanks for all your beautiful reviews! I'm so glad you're liking this. So long as I have a story, I'll keep posting!**

**Also, how about that ending last night? And where was the Klaine? I can't wait two weeks for that! XD**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Glee... *sigh**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 6: Fever<strong>

"Finn, is this really what you think about _now?_" Blaine asked, exasperated.

"Well, I'm certainly not his mother," Finn hissed under his breath. "I don't know, I'm just… not really into seeing my step brother naked. It'd weird both of us out, trust me."

"He doesn't have to be naked," Blaine said. "Just… halfway there." He shook Kurt's shoulder gently. "Kurt, baby?" He said gently. "Wake up." Kurt groaned softly.

"I'm gonna set you down on the bed really quick, okay?" He said. "I just want to get your shirt off."

"W-Why?" Kurt asked groggily, trying to separate his dreams from reality.

"I'm going to try and get your fever down," Blaine explained.

Kurt's breathing was labored and irregular as Blaine undid the buttons that went down half the front of his pajama shirt. Finn averted his gaze, not sure why he felt so uncomfortable with Blaine doing this. Kurt, on the other hand, didn't seem to even care that his boyfriend was doing the unthinkable - in front of his own step brother! He should have been mortified, ecstatic, and panicky all at once, but all he felt was numb.

"I'm going to go start the water," Finn said softly.

"Okay," Blaine said. Finn left quickly.

"I'm making him uncomfortable," a small voice said. Blaine turned back to his boyfriend and looked at him in alarm.

"No, baby, no," Blaine promised. "He's just trying to be as helpful as he can. He's not good at this."

"I'm a terrible brother," Kurt murmured, his eyes looking so sad and dejected, Blaine almost burst into tears.

"No, you're not," Blaine said firmly, mentally reminding himself to kick Finn for acting like a fool and causing Kurt so much heartache when he was sick as soon as he got the chance. "Raise your arms," Blaine told Kurt. The sick boy obeyed, but winced as his muscles and joints throbbed and ached when he moved.

"Still in pain?" Blaine asked, concerned. Kurt nodded meekly, biting his lip to try and hold the achiness at bay.

"C'mon, let's get you cooled off," he said, pulling the shirt up over Kurt's head. As soon as the cold air caressed his overheated skin, he shivered violently.

"Relax, sweetheart," Blaine said kindly, helping Kurt out of his pajama pants as quickly as he could. Kurt's whole body trembled as he sat there, now naked but for his boxers. Instinctively, he crossed his ankles and shuddered. He barely registered what was happening, only that he was freezing to death.

"That should be fine," Blaine said, mostly to himself. He scooped Kurt back up. He couldn't believe how much heat the boy was radiating. His bare skin was fiery and feverish to the touch. Kurt cuddled up in Blaine's arms, cold and miserable and shaking like a leaf. Blaine smoothed back Kurt's unruly tangle of hair lovingly and carried him to the bathroom. He hoped this worked. They couldn't afford for Kurt's fever to go any higher.

In the bathroom, Finn was waiting. He stood off to the side as Blaine helped Kurt into the lukewarm water.

"Good?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded listlessly.

"It feels good," he breathed, feeling the cooling effects of the water immediately.

"Good," Finn and Blaine said together. Finn ruffled Kurt's hair, which on a normal day would've cost him a hand, but today just got him a small sigh.

"I'm worried about you, Kurt." He said.

"Don't be," Kurt said weakly. "I'll be fine."

"So, um, I'm going to go wait for your dad," Finn said, looking for an excuse to leave. He wasn't sure how to feel about all of it. He knew he cared about Kurt and wanted him to feel better, but he also knew he was useless and scared and feeling a little awkward. He was glad Kurt had Blaine, because if he didn't, he would surely be even sicker than he already was.

"Okay," Kurt said languidly. Finn ducked out as quickly as he could, all the while with Blaine's angry, scrutinizing stare on him, even after he left the room. Finally, Blaine got tired of staring at the empty doorframe and sat down hard on the closed toilet, sighing and rubbing his eyes. He looked over at Kurt.

"How do you feel?" He asked gently.

"Sick," Kurt said hoarsely.

"No kidding?" Blaine quipped. "I totally couldn't tell." Kurt couldn't help but giggle at his boyfriend's sarcasm. Blaine put a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder and pushed him slightly deeper into the water.

"You look it, too," Blaine commented. He eyed Kurt and realized that his whole body screamed "sick." His hair was unkempt and disheveled, the usually fastidiously-placed tendrils sticking up every which way. His skin was pale to the point of almost being chalky white. His eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, and watery. His nose was twitching and his sinuses were swollen. His voice was congested and raspy, and his beautiful pink lips were unusually chapped. Sitting in the water, he was still shivering, though now not quite as hard. His eyes drooped shut as though he was exhausted, and the bruises underneath had darkened to the color of midnight. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his nose was tinged red. His eyes were glassy and dull. He kept swallowing compulsively, and wincing afterwards, leading Blaine to believe he had a very sore throat.

Kurt coughed harshly into the hollow of his elbow. He must have really been looking awful for Blaine to even bring it up. His conscientious boyfriend seldom brought up his appearance, noticing that it made him uncomfortable. It made him feel embarrassed and self-conscious to have Blaine sitting there while he looked so crappy, but he was feeling too badly to even care. His whole body hurt, as though he'd been trampled by a herd of angry rhinos. Or, as his hazy brain saw it, rhinos wearing leather jackets and pompadours, ready for a gang fight. His head pounded at the very thought.

His sinuses ached, his joints hurt, and his eyes were sore. His throat was raw and burning, and his chest was tight and achy. His side was in severe pain, as though he'd cracked a rib. His stomach lurched painfully, and his body was on fire, yet freezing at the same time. He was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open. He was feeling particularly dizzy from the bright lights, the action and moving, and the lack of stomach contents. In short, he was feeling weak and miserable.

Blaine noticed him struggling to keep his eyes open. He debated whether or not it was a good idea to let him sleep. He thought it might not be such a great plan, as Kurt could drown or something worse could happen. He looked at the clock. They'd only been sitting there for about five minutes.

"Go ahead and close your eyes," Blaine said kindly. "I won't let you drown. I'll be right here. Let's wait another five minutes or so before you go back to bed, okay?" Kurt nodded gratefully and laid his head against the wall of the bathroom and relaxed.

Somehow, Blaine found it hard to look away from his poor, sick Kurt. He couldn't decide if it was coming from how pitiful he looked, how peaceful he was when nearly asleep, or the fact that he was half-naked. Blaine decided to go with the pitiful and peaceful thing. He pushed the other part out of his mind and regained focus on what was important: getting Kurt's fever down.

He saw how peaceful and calm Kurt was and decided to let him sit for a little longer, so it wasn't until about fifteen more minutes later that Blaine gently roused the other boy. Kurt, groggy and disoriented, sat up and shivered violently, teeth chattering, as his bare shoulders came up above water level and were met by a cold blast of air.

Blaine helped him stand and get out, wrapping a big, plushy towel from the closet around him. Kurt sneezed repeatedly, which caused him to stumble, dazed. Blaine had him sit down and went to grab him a new pair of pajamas.

In silence, and with as much privacy as was possible, Blaine helped Kurt into something warm and dry. He drained the tub. Kurt, meanwhile, stumbled back to bed, where he curled up and immediately closed his eyes. He coughed into the crook of his arm and fell asleep almost instantly. Blaine sat down next to him on the bed, with Kurt's head lying by his hip, and sighed.

_Poor Kurt_, he thought, gently rubbing soothing circles into his boyfriend's palm with his thumb. _He's so sick_. Kurt muttered in his sleep ever so softly and instinctively leaned closer to Blaine. The Warbler noticed that Kurt seemed to subconsciously seek out his presence. Even asleep, he was slowly inching closer to Blaine. Blaine moved his hand from rubbing circles into Kurt's palm to rubbing circles on his forehead. But he froze suddenly as his finger made contact with Kurt's skin.

Blaine's breathing picked up speed as he realized that all was not well. How could he not have noticed it? The way Kurt was still shaking with chills? The way his brow was creased in pain? The way he moaned softly, pleadingly under his breath, even while sleeping? Finn was not the unobservant one, Blaine realized. He was. Because Kurt's skin was not any cooler at all after what they had hoped would be a cooling, fever-reducing soak. He was lying there, still burning hot and feverish – this time almost worse than before!

Blaine tried not to panic, but this was a hard concept when the person he loved was still in so much agony, and suffering through it in silence. He figured water wouldn't do any good, but maybe the wet washcloth would at least offer Kurt a little comfort. He ran it under the cold tap for a few seconds and wrung it out in the sink. Kurt was tossing and turning restlessly, but ceased all movement for a second when Blaine set the cloth on his forehead. Blaine heard the other boy take a deep breath. Blaine caressed Kurt's flushed cheek. For a moment, it seemed that all would be well. And then, Kurt began to cough.

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><p><strong>Ooh, I feel so evil for leaving you on another cliffhanger! As always, I love reviews! Sorry for the short chapter, but I promise to update again soon!<strong>

**Until the next update!**

**~PG22**


	7. Closer To Love

**Author's Note: Hello again, lovely readers. Sorry this update's a little late, but as this is my favorite chapter so far, I wanted it to be as bloody perfect as possible! It's also the longest so far, with a lot more action than the last few!**

**So many of you have sent out really great reviews. I just want to shout out a big thank you to all of you: I wasn't expecting such a great response!**

**I hope this chapter doesn't seem too rushed. I've been playing around with it, trying some new ideas I've had, so I apologize if it all starts to run a little fast! I also introduce Kurt's dad to the story, so I hope I got him in-character. I have a feeling, though, that he's probably a tad bit out of character. Sorry!**

**So, slightly off topic, but I just saw the episode "The First Time." That is seriously the sweetest thing I've ever seen, and I want to channel that into my writing. (Even though this story takes place way before that!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee (but maybe one day I'll get to write for it!).**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 7: CLOSER TO LOVE<strong>

It started out as an innocent enough cough: just small and non-rousing. Kurt even slept with it for the next hour or so. But then, disaster struck in the form of a coughing fit. His paroxysms woke him up almost instantly. When it became clear he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, he managed to sit up, but entirely too quickly, making him dizzier than ever. He realized he couldn't stop coughing, and each new spasm caused his body to pitch and jerk painfully. He tried futilely to get enough air to breathe. Blaine calmly wrapped Kurt in a warm embrace, trying to be comforting while at the same time holding him steady so he wouldn't jostle around as much. Kurt tried to turn away so that he wouldn't cough on Blaine, but the other boy made it impossible for this to happen. He clutched Kurt tightly and drew the boy closer to him, not caring about getting coughed on, then held him tight and acted as a shock absorber, keeping Kurt's body still.

When he finally stopped choking, Kurt sagged into Blaine and panted heavily, feeling his chest ache and his heart race as he did. Blaine could hear a slight wheeze every time Kurt inhaled. The pain and tightness in Kurt's chest was so severe he almost started to cry, and moving so much had turned his stomach sour and caused his head to begin throbbing mercilessly. He whimpered, hiding his face in Blaine's collar bone.

"That hurt," he murmured miserably.

"Shh," Blaine said, wrapping his arms tenderly around Kurt. "I'll bet it did." Kurt's face was bright red from coughing so much. "It's okay," Blaine promised. "It's all going to be okay." Kurt tried to move, to readjust, but suddenly, a sharp pain shot up his spine and into his joints and muscles, causing him to gasp heavily.

"What is it?" Blaine asked almost immediately after Kurt uttered the sound.

"Just… just really sore," he said, cringing. When the pain let up slightly, he exhaled and looked up at Blaine through his eyelashes. "I'm okay."

"No, Kurt, you're not," Blaine said worriedly. "You're really sick."

Suddenly, Kurt turned a violent shade of green. There was surely nothing left in his stomach, but the fact that it was still severely upset, he was feeling very nauseas, and his coughing had just shaken up the meager contents meant that he needed to throw up. He imagined the pain of this however, the burning and the aching and how poorly he was going to feel afterwards, and he whimpered and moaned weakly. He tried to hold it down. He was afraid of how badly he was going to hurt, so much worse than he was hurting right now. Blaine, however, noticed the boy's obvious discomfort.

"Baby?" He asked, rubbing Kurt's back soothingly. "What's wrong?" When Kurt didn't respond, Blaine realized what was going on. He released Kurt, who, giving in only slightly to the terrible feeling, got up and hovered over the toilet, shaking uncontrollably. He dropped to his knees, his legs unable to support him anymore, his body weak and worn, and his strength to fight off the nauseas sensations wearing thin. He willed it to stay away, and soon, he was crying with the effort.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked in surprise. "What's wrong?" Kurt didn't want to open his mouth. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. But he couldn't just blow off Blaine's question.

"I don't want to be sick," he said pleadingly, opening his mouth as little as possible so nothing would be tempted to force itself out. Tears stained his flushed cheeks as he struggled against his own gag reflex.

"Oh," Blaine said gently, his heart breaking for the ailing boy. "Oh, baby." He knelt down beside the other boy. "I know. It hurts and it sucks and it's not fun. But I promise, you'll feel better if you get it out." Kurt was concentrating so hard on not hurling that he barely heard Blaine's words. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. He closed his mouth tightly, trying to master his own body.

"Kurt, I'm right here," Blaine promised. "Right here." He placed a reassuring, steady hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Just get it out of your system. You'll feel so much better afterwards." But the words felt hollow in his _own_ ears, let alone Kurt's. Still, the sick boy slowly turned toward the bowl, still crying softly, and allowed his body to eject whatever it was that was making his stomach hurt so badly. Blaine silently sat by him and rubbed his lower back comfortingly. The dry heaving was so painful, Kurt nearly passed out. His stomach turned, and the acidity burned and stung at his sore throat. It hurt his achy chest and made him feel like he was dying. He thought it would never be over.

Finally, _finally_, after what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. He panted, and his ragged breathing was heavy and labored. He shook so hard he nearly toppled over.

"There, see?" Blaine said. "You're okay." Suddenly, he noticed the boy starting to swoon, his top half swaying.

"Kurt?" He said alarmed, catching him before he fell. "Kurt? Kurt! Are you okay?" The boy in his arms took a shaky, shuddery breath.

"Oh, god, it hurts," he groaned softly, as tears began flowing unchecked from his eyes. He hid his face in the collar of Blaine's blazer, wishing he didn't feel so horrible. Blaine gently rubbed his upper back. Slowly, Kurt's shaking turned to slight trembling.

"Come on," Blaine coaxed, helping the boy stand up and handing him a Dixie cup full of water so he could rinse his mouth out. Kurt stumbled, leaning heavily against Blaine for support. Blaine helped him back to bed with all the tenderness and compassion he could muster. Kurt felt a dizziness unmatched when he sat down, and he curled up in bed, trying to push it away.

The pain wasn't subsiding. Kurt's mind may have been playing tricks on him, but this wasn't a part of the fogginess. Everything was hurting him. There was no place he could go to run from it. He started coughing again, which made his side ache even more severe each time his body bucked. Each fresh fit caused a new, white-hot knife of pain to slice down into his chest. He felt hot, his brain was all foggy and hazy, and he was aching all over.

Blaine tucked the covers around his boyfriend tightly. He took up a spot right by the bed, gently stroking Kurt's hair. He kissed Kurt's temple ever so softly, with the tenderness and gentleness of a warm summer breeze. Kurt's eyes instantly closed at this and he leaned against Blaine's arm, seeking out some reassurance that he wasn't alone. Blaine placed his hand atop Kurt's head and used his thumb to rub soothing circles into Kurt's forehead.

Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming echoed from downstairs. The noise startled both boys severely. Kurt literally jumped, then clenched his teeth as his headache exploded from the sound. Blaine merely jolted, then righted himself and eased Kurt back into the pillow, urging him to relax with his touch.

"Finn?" Mr. Hummel called, somehow loud enough that Finn heard, but soft enough that it didn't irritate Kurt's aching head anymore. Kurt knew his father was a worrier, and it showed in his voice. The two boys heard Finn pound down the stairs. Finn, never one for subtlety, didn't realize that this would, in fact, cause Kurt's headache to flare up, until he was already downstairs. Kurt closed his eyes tightly and squeezed Blaine's hand. Blaine squeezed back and caressed his boyfriend's face tenderly.

Meanwhile, Finn was talking to Burt, who had finally arrived.

"Hey," Finn said in a low voice.

"Hey, buddy," Burt said, patting his stepson on the back. "How're you? How's Kurt doing?"

"I'm fine," Finn said, as he usually did when anyone asked him how he was, as it was easier than going into detail about his feelings. "Kurt's really sick, though. Blaine's with him." Burt nodded, setting down the take-out bag he'd brought home with him.

To Finn's quizzical glance, he replied, "I stopped at Breadstix to pick up some dinner. Kurt could tell you, I've never been good at soup."

"Isn't soup like, really simple though?" Finn asked curiously as Burt made his way toward the stairs.

"Yeah, well," Burt said dismissively. "I'm no cook, as you can see, and the last time Kurt was really sick, I ended up burning it. And he ate it all before telling me." Finn imagined his half-brother forcing burned soup down his throat while he was sick in order to make his father feel good, even though Burt was certainly no chef, and he couldn't help but laugh as they made their way up the stairs.

"What's so funny?" Burt asked with a smirk.

"I can't believe he actually ate it," Finn said, chuckling.

"Yeah, well, he's a really caring kid," Burt said with a tone of affection he tended to reserve only for talking about his son. "He didn't want to hurt my feelings, but it ended up making him throw up. I felt really bad afterwards, and I've never attempted to cook while he was sick since. I don't want to make him feel worse."

"Oh," Finn said. "Wow." Finn imagined a younger Kurt, coping with being gay and losing his mom, sick in bed and still worrying about others' feelings before his own. He felt a surge of respect and emotion toward his step-brother.

When Burt walked into the darkened room, Finn hung in the doorway. Blaine stood up abruptly, careful not to disturb the quickly-dozing-off Kurt.

"Hi, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said softly, thrusting out his hand.

"Evening, Blaine," Mr. Hummel said, shaking the boy's hand twice before letting go. "How's he doing?"

"Not good," Blaine said honestly, tossing a worried glance in Kurt's direction. "I'm not sure what else to do for him. He's been throwing up all afternoon, and he's running a fever that keeps going up. He also keeps telling me he's in a lot of pain, but because of the vomiting, I don't want to give him any medication that might upset his stomach more." Burt nodded, stepping over to his son's bedside and gently stroked his feverish forehead. Kurt, aware of a new, different, and yet all-too-familiar touch, blinked his eyes open as best he could to look at his father.

"Hey, dad," he croaked in a raspy whisper.

"Hey, kiddo," Burt said in a soft, soothing voice neither Finn nor Blaine had ever heard from him before. "How're you feeling?"

"Really icky," Kurt said softly. "Everything hurts. And I'm really hot, but cold too." Kurt coughed harshly into his elbow. Burt winced.

"That sounds really bad, bud," he pointed out. Kurt merely shrugged. Burt ran his fingers through Kurt's hair a few times a gesture that on a good day would have gotten him a glare from his son, but tonight just caused Kurt to sigh comfortably.

"I brought some soup," he said, and Kurt cracked a small smile.

"You'll never try to make it again, will you?" Kurt asked affectionately.

"Not after what it did to you, no," Burt replied with a chuckle. "Are you up for eating?" The mention of food of any kind caused Kurt's stomach to twist into a tight knot. He shook his head.

"No," he murmured miserably. "My stomach hurts. I just want to sleep."

"Okay," Burt said, touching the back of his hand to his son's hot forehead and cringing at the fever he was running. "You let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

"I will," Kurt said, nodding and closing his eyes sweetly. "Thanks, dad."

"No problem, kiddo," Burt said with a smile. "Get some rest." He stepped away from the bed carefully. Then, he gestured for Blaine to step out into the hallway with him. Blaine followed Kurt's father out. Finn stepped back to let them through.

"Listen," Burt said, when they were out of earshot of Kurt. "Blaine, thanks for being here. You really seem to know what you're doing, and I know Kurt always feels better and is more relaxed around you."

"No problem," Blaine said earnestly. "I'm happy to be able to be with him. But I'm really worried. He seems a lot sicker than I thought." Both Burt and Finn could see the lines of worry etched deeply into Blaine's features, even before he ever mentioned this.

"We'll keep an eye on that," Burt promised. "I'm worried too. Right now, though, let's let him get some rest and see if that doesn't help him feel a little better."

"That sounds good," Blaine said.

"And you are more than welcome to stay for dinner," Mr. Hummel offered. Blaine smiled.

"It would be an honor," he said. "When are you planning on eating?"

"Well, Carole said she's getting a ride from a coworker and should be home soon, so we'll probably just wait for her," Burt explained.

"Great," Blaine said. "I'll stay with Kurt until then."

"That's fine," Burt said. "Keep an eye on him, okay?"

"Absolutely," Blaine promised, turning and heading back into the room.

"And Blaine?" Mr. Hummel added, causing Blaine to turn around again.

"Yes?" Blaine asked curiously.

"Thanks," Burt repeated. "For everything."

"You're welcome," Blaine said, touched. He knew Mr. Hummel was very protective of Kurt, and he respected and appreciated that. It was very rare that Burt found it easy to let someone else in and let them take care of his son, so Blaine cherished this blessing, going back to sit down by the bed again. Burt turned and headed downstairs to set the table and get dinner ready.

Finn stood awkwardly in the hallway, looking from his stepfather's silhouette travelling down the stairs to Blaine, sitting at Kurt's bedside, trying to figure out who would possibly need his help. He knew that no one really did, but he didn't want to accept it. He was growing bored alone in his bedroom; he was so worried about Kurt that he was distracted from being able to own at Black Ops as he usually did, and Puck wouldn't leave him alone with his constant texting and instant messaging about his latest scheme to win the affections of and (hopefully) a ticket into the pants of Lauren Zizes. Finn decided that Burt would need some space after a long day of work, what with all the worry about his son and everything, so Finn decided Blaine could probably use his company more. He also decided this would be a good and discreet way to check up on Kurt while not seeming so painfully mom-like.

Carefully and quietly as a stalking jungle cat, he crept into Kurt's bedroom. It was dark and peaceful, the TV having been silenced hours ago by a nervous Blaine, who thought the noise might awaken Kurt. As always, the room was immaculately clean – at least by Finn's standards – thanks to Kurt's meticulous planning and constant reorganizing. And, as usual, Kurt's favorite photograph still resided in a simple frame that rested on his bedside table; a very young Kurt smiling up at the camera, holding hands on the sidewalk with a tall, beautiful woman with Kurt's very eyes, nose, and mouth – his mother, before she died. Finn couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for his half-brother. Sure, he knew the feeling of living without a father figure to look up to, but he couldn't imagine the pain, the hardships of losing his mom. It was too painful to even think about. He almost let a tear escape his eyes. Almost.

Then, Finn saw Blaine. Blaine was leaning over the bed, his hand holding Kurt's. His thumb was gently rubbing the back of Kurt's hand. Blaine's other hand was slowly and methodically brushing Kurt's bangs back off his forehead over and over again. And, even in the darkness, Finn could see the look in Blaine's eyes, the expression of pure adoration on his face. He could see plain as day the deep lines of worry, fear, and pain. But in his eyes, there was such severe compassion, and above all, this incredible look of absolute, undying, undiluted love.

Suddenly, a sensation seized Finn violently. He felt as though he was intruding on something special and private. He felt like an outsider, like he didn't belong in this moment with them. He began to back out the door slowly, hoping to slip out unnoticed; however, being a jock did not make him graceful, and he ended up crashing right into Kurt's dresser, as he wasn't watching where he was going, and caused Blaine to jump out of his skin and whip around.

"Finn?" He hissed as quietly as he could manage. Kurt started to murmur fitfully in his sleep. Blaine caressed his boyfriend's face, trying to soothe him into not waking up. "Jeez! What are you doing?"

"I was just… checking on him," he murmured awkwardly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb him. I'm going downstairs now…." He felt so stupid and so cruel for almost waking Kurt up and for destroying such a tender moment with his clumsiness.

"You don't have to sneak around, dude," Blaine told him. "And you can stay, if you want."

"Yeah, I know," Finn said defensively. "I-I'm glad he's okay. I'm going to go now." Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Okay," he said. "See you later, I guess." He was having a hard time figuring Finn out today, and he stared at the doorframe the football player disappeared through long after he was gone. Blaine couldn't understand what was making Finn so jumpy and nervous. Was it Blaine taking care of Kurt, or was it something else? What was he missing? Blaine liked Finn a lot. He was a good guy, a good friend, and a good brother to Kurt. Kurt never complained about him the way other kids tended to complain about their siblings. And, the feeling seemed mutual, at least from Blaine's perspective. So what was going on now? Unless… no. Blaine pushed that thought from his head. He couldn't cope with the idea that _he_ was part of - or even causing - the problem, not now, on top of everything else. He tried not to think about it and focused on his job: making his boyfriend well again.

Kurt coughed in his sleep. His head was moving fitfully on the pillow, but at Blaine's touch, he was calmer. He murmured under his breath softly, words Blaine couldn't make out. Thankfully, his dream stayed somewhat normal and mild this time. He and Blaine were sitting outside in the freezing rain and sleet, shivering, but snuggled up on a park bench and holding each other for warmth. A familiar song played in the background. Rain dripped from Blaine's hair, and Kurt could feel the moisture dripping down his neck, but he wasn't uncomfortable. He shivered as they watched the rain fall down.

"Baby, it's _cold_ outside," he murmured softly. Blaine couldn't help but smile and grasp Kurt's hand squeezing gently. He glanced out the window at the steady downpour and sighed.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "Yes it is."

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><p><strong>I didn't want any more cliffhangers - not just yet. Things are about to get really, really messy come next update! I don't know about you, but I think it's time to get him to a doctor!<strong>

**Your reviews have been extraordinary, and I'd always love to read more of your feedback! Thank you! **

**Until next time,**

**~PG22**


	8. With Or Without You

**Author's Notes: So I feel like this chapter is a little rushed in the middle. I apologize in advance for that - it's not one of my all-time favorites, but I wanted to get going; I've wasted entirely too much time on this one part. Plenty of you have been rallying for Kurt to be taken to the hospital. This chapter will go straight into that, but I had to get there first! So wait just a little longer so we're sure he's not getting better, and _then_, I promise we'll get him checked out!**

**You should know by now I like to drag out the suspense! :)**

**Still not entirely sure where I'm heading with the plot, but just so everyone knows, I do have an illness picked out, selected very carefully to fit the situation and what I'm hoping to do with this fic. It will be announced in either chapter 9 or chapter 10, so only a little while longer to wait!**

**Thanks again everyonne for the wonderful reviews! I can't believe I'm almost at 50! You guys are great and the reason I've kept going and will keep going until the end! I love hearing from you all, and some of your comments have literally made my day, so thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Last I checked, I do not own Glee. (Still wish I could write for it, though!)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 8: WITH OR WITHOUT YOU<strong>

When Carole walked in, she had barely waved goodbye to the friend who had dropped her off when she shut the door and demanded, "How is he?"

"Hey, mom," Finn said from his position on the couch, where he was currently watching the game. Burt finished folding the last napkin and placed it on the table, going over to kiss his wife, but she was too distracted to return the loving gesture.

"How's he doing?" She demanded again, looking from Finn to Burt. Before either man could answer, however, a voice piped up from the stairs.

"He's really sick, but he's sleeping now." Carole looked up at Blaine and smiled.

"Well, hello there, Blaine," she said, and Blaine came down the rest of the stairs to say hello. Carole gave him a big hug.

"Thanks so much for taking care of him," she said earnestly.

"Anytime," Blaine promised.

"Yeah, because I'm kind of useless," Finn said sheepishly, causing his mom to hug him tightly.

"You did great, Finn, thank you too," Carole said.

"So, should we eat?" Burt asked Carole.

"I suppose," she said. "I guess if he's sleeping, we shouldn't bother him. She set her bag down. "Blaine, dear, are you staying for dinner?"

"If that's okay," he said shyly.

"Of course it is," Carole promised. "Good. Well, let's go eat then. No sense in waiting for no reason." And so they sat down to a dinner of Breadstix takeout soup.

When they were almost finished, Carole asked, "Has Kurt eaten anything today?"

"Well, he had breakfast this morning," Finn said. "And I saw him at lunch, but it didn't look like he was eating anything. And then everything sort of left his system when we got home… so yeah."

"Poor kid is probably too sick to want anything," But said.

"But he needs to eat _something_," Carole said worriedly.

"He probably won't want to," Burt said. "He's sick." Carole looked hopeless, and then suddenly had an idea. She turned to Blaine. "Blaine, honey, do you think you could coax him into eating some soup?" Blaine shrugged.

"I could try," he reasoned. "It might work, but I don't know…."

"Great," Carole said appreciatively. She opened the final takeout container that had been left for Kurt and poured it out into a bowl. She grabbed a spoon from one of the kitchen drawers and walked over to Blaine, but passed him and headed toward the stairs.

"I'll come up with you," she said, even though Blaine hadn't questioned her odd behavior. "I want to see him." Blaine nodded. "I'll be right back," Carole promised the other two men at the table.

"We'll be here," Burt said. Finn nodded his agreement, not sure anything else really needed to be said.

Blaine followed Carole up the stairs and into Kurt's room, where the sick boy was sleeping fitfully, coughing every so often. Carole gasped slightly on sight of her stepson and hurried over, gently cupping his forehead with the palm of her hand.

"Oh, poor thing," she said, tsking softly. "He's running quite a fever there." Carole caressed Kurt's cheek lovingly, setting the soup bowl on the bedside table. Coming closer, Blaine could hear low moans and gasps of pain coming from Kurt, followed by a long string of hasty, incoherent, unintelligible words. He sounded positively frantic. Carole sighed and patted Kurt's hand.

"Poor baby," she murmured, almost to herself. Kurt's features twitched slightly as he was absorbed in his nightmare.

"I'm afraid to wake him," Carole said. "I don't want to make things worse."

"He keeps having nightmares," Blaine confided, hoping Carole would know what to do. Shockingly, she nodded like this didn't surprise her.

"An overheated mind can make you see some pretty scary things," she told Blaine. "Besides, Kurt's had a rough go recently anyway. Things have just now settled down for him. I'm sure he's not fully recovered from it yet, either." It was Blaine's turn to nod. Meanwhile, lying there, Kurt could hear voices in his fevered haze. He thought it sounded like Blaine and Carole, but there was no way to be sure. He was lingering on the edge of consciousness, and his thought process was a little fuzzy.

"I can understand that," Blaine said. Kurt flinched, then winced, then took a shuddery breath, coughing again. He tried to make his voice work, to call out for one or both of them, but all he could manage was a low moan.

"Shh, baby, lie still," Carole soothed, stroking Kurt's cheek again and again. "Aw, Kurt. I'm so sorry." She stroked his cheek one final time before turning to leave.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," she told him. To Blaine's startled look, she said, "He trusts you. I'm worried he might refuse if it was me. And Lord knows, Burt's not the type of person to force him into something that he can't bring himself to do. Please get him to eat _something_."

"I'll do my best," Blaine promised.

"Thank you," Carole said. "I'll be back in a bit." She then left. Blaine took up a seat by the bed and gently took Kurt's hand.

Only a few minutes had gone by before Kurt's mind shocked him awake with a terrifying image, a spark like electricity shooting down his spine. He sat up and gasped, then doubled over in an intense coughing fit. His eyes began to water as each new spasm tore through his chest like knives. He gasped for breath in between paroxysms. He felt like death itself.

And suddenly, without warning, Blaine was there, his strong arms gracefully enfolding Kurt. Kurt was shaking so hard he was sure he'd never be able to stop and coughing so hard and so much that he was afraid the pressure and force would break each of his ribs one by one. Pressure was building up in his head, but with Blaine there, somehow, he felt a little better, like everything would be okay. And suddenly Kurt could contain it no longer; he sobbed as he choked, holding Blaine equally tightly, imploring with his whole being to never be let go.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Blaine said softly, his voice breaking and quivering at the end. "Please don't cry. You'll make yourself feel worse." _And you're killing me inside_, he added in his head. But Kurt, try as he might, could not stop crying. Blaine placed a cool hand to the back of Kurt's neck while embracing him tightly. He gently ran his thumb along Kurt's hairline repeatedly, trying anything and everything to calm him down. Kurt was practically gasping for breath, and Blaine could feel his cold, rapid intakes of breath against his neck. Blaine let Kurt cry it out for as long as he needed. Slowly, very slowly, the sobbing and the coughing both ceased.

"I-It's all hazy," Kurt mumbled through shuddering, wavering sobs. "I c-can't think straight!"

"Shh," Blaine soothed, rocking back and forth gently, and with the greatest of care. "It's okay. It's all okay. I'm here." Kurt tried to relax, but it was difficult because of how miserable he was feeling. He took a few deep breaths, and Blaine could distinctly hear the faint sound of wheezing every time Kurt exhaled.

"Come on, sweetheart," Blaine said. "Listen, I know you're probably not hungry, but can you try a little soup?" Kurt tried to assess the current state of his stomach before responding. It was still churning painfully, but he noted the pleading in Blaine's voice. Perhaps it was his foggy mind, but he could have sworn that it sounded almost like Blaine was begging. His stomach muscles contracted painfully at the thought of food, but he did not want to make Blaine beg. Before he could even process what he wanted to do, he found himself nodding.

"Okay," he agreed softly. "Just a little, though." Blaine squeezed the boy tightly.

"Thank you," Blaine said, and propped Kurt up with several pillows. He sat down beside his boyfriend with the steaming bowl and the spoon. Kurt looked so out of it, sitting there with dulled eyes, his body trembling lightly. Blaine set the bowl on Kurt's lap and handed him the spoon, but Kurt remained semi-motionless. He grasped the bowl, but his hands were shaking and his muscles hurt and he was feeling weak, so of course, he nearly dropped it. Blaine quickly took the bowl off his boyfriend's lap before he spilled the scalding liquid all over himself. Blaine dipped the utensil silently into the dish and spooned out a small bite. He held it out to Kurt, who blushed only slightly and said with a hint of indignation, "I can feed myself."

"Not right now you can't," Blaine said, and held the spoon even closer to Kurt's lips. Cautiously, and with the utmost trepidation, Kurt opened his mouth and allowed Blaine to feed him the spoonful. As he swallowed, he felt the warm liquid soothe his fiery throat and warm him up considerably.

"Good?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded, but he was already starting to feel queasy from just one spoonful. Blaine held another to the boy's lips. Kurt managed to let Blaine feed him only a few more bites before he shook his head, indicating that he could physically eat no more. Blaine set the bowl aside and gently brushed Kurt's bangs back. In doing so, Blaine felt Kurt's forehead; he was still feverish.

"Oh, Kurt," he sighed. It was absolutely crushing him to see his boyfriend in such misery. Kurt brought the blankets up close to his throat and shivered. Every move he was making was making him nauseas.

"Here, lie back down," Blaine said quietly, gently easing Kurt back against the pillow. Kurt coughed miserably, wishing he could just curl up and await death. Every muscle in his body was sore and throbbing, and a chill had settled in his bones that he just couldn't seem to shake. Every simple motion made him sick to his stomach. He felt wretched. He wanted to sleep, but somehow, he couldn't shut his eyes or relax enough to make this happen. He was feeling jittery, and his teeth chattered. He hated what this illness was doing to his body, how he was vaguely detached and losing control.

And then, he felt it again, that horrible sensation that made him want to curl up in a ball and die, the feeling that foreshadowed so much more pain than he was already enduring.

"B-Blaine," he croaked through chattering teeth. But Blaine didn't need the explanation. The panic, the desperation, the fear in Kurt's eyes and the tinge of green that had settled in his skin said quite enough. Blaine grabbed the trashcan, which had just been cleaned out, and set it in Kurt's hands. The boy stayed still for only half a second; then, he lurched forward hard, not expecting how violently and quickly the feeling came on. Before he even had time to react, his stomach ejected its contents again, and this time he couldn't stop it from happening or control it. He was shaking incredibly hard. Blaine lovingly rubbed Kurt's back, wanting to give anything, to _do_ anything to make him feel just a little bit better.

Kurt's shoulders shook with a mix of silent sobs and violent sickness. He was breathing heavily and irregularly, unable to get enough air in his lungs. He coughed harshly, making his current situation a thousand times worse. Suddenly, as if on cue, Carole and Burt burst into the room, trailed closely by Finn.

"What's going on?" Burt asked worriedly. Blaine simply shook his head frantically, not knowing how to respond.

"I don't know," he said miserably. "I had him eat some soup, and now…," he gestured hopelessly at Kurt's present condition, at a complete loss for words.

"Oh, baby," Carole said anxiously, coming over and sitting on the other side of the wretchedly ill Kurt. "It's okay. It's just the flu."

The problem was that Kurt couldn't make himself stop gagging, especially when his cough joined in the mix. He continued to dry heave painfully. Carole grabbed the water glass from the bedside table and pressed into Kurt's hands. He took it and, as carefully as he could, drank a sip, then thrust the glass back into Carole's hands and automatically leaned over and vomited it right back up.

"That's it," Carole said. "This is bad. We need to take him to the hospital right now." Kurt's cough was loud and barking now as he continued to hurl anything and everything that was still inside him. Blaine squeezed his hand lovingly, but his heart was racing and he himself was on the verge of tears.

"What about some medicine?" Finn asked anxiously. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He knew he was totally useless and wished he wasn't. He wanted to be able to do something for Kurt, something to make him feel better, not worse.

"It won't do any good," Carole said. "He'll throw it right back up."

"Should I call an ambulance?" Burt asked worriedly, his voice taking on a panicked edge. Finally, Kurt regained control of himself and forced himself to stop dry heaving. His breathing was heavy, labored, and ragged.

"Oh god," he groaned meekly.

"What is it, kiddo?" Burt asked nervously.

"It hurts," Kurt whimpered, starting to cry softly. He wished madly for someone to take away his suffering, just for a little while. Carole carefully took the trash can from him so he could lean on Blaine.

"It's gonna be okay," Blaine tried to reassure Kurt, but his mouth was particularly dry and his heart was pounding in his ears and his eyes were slowly forming tears. This was bad, really bad.

"Burt, he needs to get checked out. This sounds serious," Carole said, trying hard to keep calm.

"Should I drive him up to the emergency room?" Burt asked. "Or do you think we should call a paramedic?" Kurt closed his eyes, still sucking in breaths of air as if his life depended on it. Blaine snaked his arm around his sick boyfriend and held him close. Kurt coughed, slumping against Blaine in defeat. He couldn't fight it any longer. He was too weak, too spent, in too much pain. His cheeks were moist with tears as he let the coughs overtake him once more.

"Let's drive him up there," Carole said. "An ambulance would take too long." She turned to Finn. "Finn, sweetheart, you don't have to come…." But Finn quickly cut her off.

"I want to," he said earnestly.

"I would like to as well, if that's okay, Mrs. Hudson," Blaine said softly. For a second, Carole looked taken aback, but then her expression softened.

"Alright," she conceded. "That's fine then. Let's just get him to a hospital." Kurt moaned softly.

"It's okay," Blaine soothed.

"Don't leave," Kurt whispered pleadingly. Blaine looked at Kurt and saw the anguish on his face at the thought of Blaine going.

"I won't," Blaine promised. "I'll be right there with you the whole way."


	9. Waiting on the World to Change

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry, it's been a really long time, but I'm preparing for a show right now, and I never have any time anymore. I also wanted to get chapter 10 finished, as it's a really huge part of the story. But, as promised, here's the next update!**

**You all are such enthusiastic reviewers, and I really appreciate the feedback I receive! Thanks to a certain KurtandBlaineGleek, I was able to identify some spelling errors on my (and my stupid defective spell check's) part, so thank you so much! (See, sometimes reviewing even gets you featured in the story!) **

**So, I realize I haven't made mention to Blaine's parents. This is because they don't mention them really in the show either. It seems like Blaine pretty much goes wherever and does whatever freely, so I'm going to keep with that tradition. I figure any rational parents might be a little worried, so I might include them later, but for now, they either don't care or have already allowed him to go. **

**Also, if you couldn't tell, I'm so not a Quinn/Finn fan. (I'm not a Rachel/Finn fan either, but... it's better than the former!)**

**Also also, I'm having a little contest. The doctor is named after a favorite character of mine in a different series. Props to whoever can correctly guess it first and leave me a comment with their answer. I'll post the correct answer in the next update, along with the winner's name.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Glee.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 9: WAITING ON THE WORLD TO CHANGE<strong>

"We need to get him changed," Carole said urgently.

"I'll help you," Blaine said, touching a cool hand to Kurt's cheek.

"Thank you," Carole said. "I just want to make him somewhat presentable, but still comfortable."

"I'll go start the car, get it warmed up," Burt said, wanting to hurry up and make sure his son was safe.

"Good idea," Carole said. "And pull up so we don't have to walk him through the rain." Silent and organized chaos ensued, and Finn stood in the middle of it all, feeling utterly unhelpful.

"Finny?" His mom called gently, forcing Finn to look up.

"Yeah?" He asked uncertainly.

"Are _you_ okay?" She asked, concerned.

"Oh," Finn said. "Yeah. Fine. Just… just really worried about Kurt is all."

"He's gonna be okay, sweetheart," Carole said gently, trying to reassure her son. Suddenly, before he could answer, Finn's phone started buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket and groaned internally. It was Quinn, or so the Caller Id said. Finn sighed, going to his room and shutting the door to avoid disturbing Kurt, and hit the send button.

"Hello?" He said, his voice taking on a gloomy monotone without him realizing it.

"Finn?" Came the voice of Quinn Fabray, his super-hot girlfriend, from the other end.

"Yeah, it's me," Finn said, unable to shake the grimness out of his tone.

"What the hell is the matter?" Quinn demanded. "You sound like someone just euthanized your puppy." _Sounds accurate enough for how I'm feeling right now_, Finn thought.

"It's nothing," Finn lied. "What's up?"

"Well, seeing as you _are_ my boyfriend, and tomorrow _is_ Friday, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tomorrow night? Maybe dinner and a movie?" For a second, Finn was tempted. But then, he thought of his brother lying in a hospital bed while he was out gallivanting around town with Quinn and his stomach knotted. He couldn't do that to Kurt, not to mention he'd never be able to pay attention to Quinn's endless prattle while worried sick over his sick brother.

"Gee, Quinn, I'd really love to," Finn said. "But-"

"But what, Finn?" Quinn demanded, already getting snarky at the prospect of Finn having better things to do than hang out with her. "What could _possibly_ be more important than your girlfriend?" Before he could answer, she continued, "Do you even _want_ this relationship to work? Because if you do, you're going to have to start sorting out your priorities. I need to come first for once! Do you not even care that I have needs that you're not meeting and-" Finn, unable to take any more of Quinn's whiny and nagging attitude, cut her off, losing complete control of himself for the first time since Kurt fell ill.

"Damn it, Quinn, stop trying to make me feel bad!" He screamed. "I can't go out with you because Kurt's sick!"

"Kurt's a big boy; he can take care of himself, Finn," Quinn snarled. "Stop making excuses."

"Making excuses?" Finn demanded. "I'm not making excuses, Quinn. He's so sick we're heading to the hospital right now!" There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line.

"Really?" Came the quiet and shocked response.

"Yes," Finn said coldly. "And if he has to stay there or something, I won't be able to go out with you. I'd be so worried about him and my mind would be anywhere else. It wouldn't be fair to him, it wouldn't be fair to you, and it wouldn't be fair to me."

"How sick is he?" Quinn asked. "Is it bad?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," Finn said ephatically. "He's barely functioning right now."

"Oh my god," Quinn said, and Finn could practically hear her burying her face in her hands. "I feel like such a bitch. I'm so sorry!"

"It's… fine, I guess," Finn said awkwardly.

"Oh my god, I hope he's okay," Quinn moaned softly. "What does he have?"

"We don't know yet, that's why we're going to the hospital," Finn answered.

"God, I'm so insensitive," Quinn muttered to herself. "Tell him I say get well, okay?"

"I will," Finn promised.

"Will you be at school tomorrow?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah," Finn said. "I will. I have no idea about Kurt though, but I doubt he'll be able to be there."

"Well, obviously don't worry about the date then," Quinn said. "We can go some other time, especially with spring break starting. I hope Kurt feels better. Tell him I said hello."

"Sure," Finn said, happy he wasn't getting yelled at anymore, but still feeling the tension between them even an entire phone line away.

"See you tomorrow," Quinn said.

"See you," Finn replied and hung up. He sighed and, not knowing what else to do, walked back to Kurt's room, where his mother was just helping Kurt into his jacket while he was being supported by Blaine, as he was so completely out of it and feeling too miserable to be much help to their efforts.

Without even looking up, Carole asked, "Who was that?"

"Oh, um, it was just Quinn," Finn responded, blushing and looking at the ground.

"Why were you yelling at her?" Carole asked. "Did you guys get into a fight?"

"It was nothing, mom," Finn said dismissively. "Kurt, Quinn says hey and to get well soon." Kurt barely registered this, but nodded slightly and murmured something that loosely resembled "Thanks." He then erupted in a fit of coughing that caused him to grab a tissue and cover his mouth with it. Finn distinctly saw the bright crimson even from the other side of the tissue. It was blood. Kurt cleaned his mouth off as best he could and threw the tissue into the trash can. He shuddered.

Now that he was completely dressed, Kurt stood up with Blaine's help and tried to take a step, but his legs trembled and his knees buckled and he almost fell to the floor. Blaine caught him by the arm and helped him right himself. Finn realized then what he could do to be helpful. In two strides, he'd made it over to where Kurt was standing, leaning heavily against Blaine. Wordlessly, he scooped up his brother and carried him to the door. Normally, Kurt would have protested, but he was so unwell that he didn't even care. Instead, he curled up in Finn's arms and whimpered softly.

"F-Finn?" He groaned, speaking slowly and softly as it took momentous effort and it hurt his head.

"Yeah, bro, what's up?" Finn asked worriedly.

"Th-thanks," Kurt stuttered, shivering and turning paler than he already was.

"Shh," Finn said lovingly. "It's all good. Just relax. Don't overexert yourself."

"S-such a b-big word," Kurt said sarcastically with a slight smirk.

"Shh," Blaine and Finn hissed at the same time.

"Thanks, dude," Finn said in an equally sarcastic tone that matched his brother's.

"The sarcasm can wait, babe," Blaine said in a much gentler voice. "Don't speak. It'll make you feel worse."

"Finn, are you sure you've got him?" Carole asked worriedly.

"Yeah, mom," Finn said easily. "He weighs like nothing."

"Okay," Carole said uneasily. "Let's get him to the car."

Their caravan trooped down the stairs, Finn taking the lead, with Blaine close behind, and Carole at the rear shutting off lights and making sure she had things like keys, Kurt's social security card, her I.D., and her cell phone. Outside, the skies were a murky, inky black and rain was still pouring down steadily. Ducking his head and wishing he had thought to bring an umbrella, Finn made a mad dash for the car, with the headlights cutting sharply through the gloom and illuminating the individual droplets of rain that passed within the perimeter of the beams. Burt had the windshield wipers going. Finn threw open the back door of the truck and set Kurt down inside. Blaine went around to the other side and Finn got in as well. Carole followed close behind, shutting and locking the door and running for the car. She had been smart, however, and had thought to grab an umbrella. She got into the passenger's seat and shut the door. Everyone was cold, wet, and silent. The heat was blasting, and still Kurt shivered hard, teeth chattering audibly in his mouth.

Seeing that everyone was inside safely, Burt began to back out of the driveway. Kurt laid his head against Blaine's shoulder and shut his eyes, as the movements of the car made him want to vomit again. Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt affectionately, holding him close for warmth. Finn silently patted Kurt's arm, trying his best to be comforting but feeling like the gesture was oddly forced. They drove in complete silence to the hospital, with the only thing breaking the ominous silence being Kurt's chattering teeth and periodical coughs. No one touched the radio dial or a phone. The whole atmosphere of the car was tense and hasty.

When they arrived at the emergency room, Burt pulled as close to the door as was possible. Finn got out and helped Kurt get out too, while Blaine took the umbrella from an offering Carole and opened it up, holding it high over the heads of Kurt and Finn.

"Go on in," Burt told his wife. "I'll find a place to park and meet you inside." Carole nodded and got out too. Kurt leaned on Finn for support, and staggered with him toward the entrance. Slowly, very slowly, they made their trek to the door, Blaine following behind with the umbrella. Once they made it inside to the warmth and dryness of the hospital emergency room, Carole told the boys to sit down. She then went to talk to the nurse and receptionist on duty. Kurt was shivering so hard it was actually painful for him. Finn helped him into a plastic-padded waiting room chair and then took a seat next to him. Blaine wrapped the Velcro strap around the wet nylon of the umbrella and sat down on the other side of Kurt, who had his head in his hands. Blaine placed his own hand between the ill boy's shoulder blades reassuringly. Burt walked in then, completely soaked and dripping water, and went over with Carole. The two then sat down on the other side of Finn and started filling out paperwork frantically, hoping to get Kurt in as soon as possible.

Waiting rooms were torture, Finn decided upon looking around. The faded blue slate walls were dull and uninteresting, except for the few little places where young kids had obviously drawn on it with crayon. The lights were too bright and it was cold, much colder than it needed to be. Kurt was shivering, sitting hunched over with his head resting on crossed wrists while Blaine rubbed his back. Finn noticed that no one else in the room looked even remotely sick, or at least, they didn't look as sick and miserable as Kurt did. Well, with the exception of a young woman sitting by the wall with her arm bent in almost the complete opposite direction, Finn conceded. The girl looked like she was in agony, and Finn cringed to think about driving to the hospital like that, or filling out forms. She might be feeling equally bad as Kurt, Finn decided, but everyone else looked perfectly healthy. Or, at least, much healthier than Kurt did anyway. Thankfully, Blaine was doing a good job of keeping him calm and quiet. Kurt was positively shaking from the cold, and his shirt was soaked through with sweat. He had yet to even look up, and he moaned almost inaudibly. But, Blaine lovingly stroked his hair and rubbed his back, which was obviously helping. Finn wished he could be that much help, but he knew he never was. He was much too awkward, too easily confused for that.

They only had to wait about ten minutes, which everyone thought was pretty good for an emergency room, but still much too long.

The nurse called out, "Kurt Hummel?" All four heads shot up, all except that of Kurt himself, as it was feeling so heavy he couldn't imagine ever lifting it again.

"That's him," Finn responded unnecessarily, as Carole and Burt were standing up. Finn gestured to his nonresponsive step brother, and Blaine patted him on the shoulder. Slowly, Kurt made himself look up. Blaine helped him stand and acted as a crutch as he made his way to the hallway the nurse was standing in on wobbling legs. Carole and Burt followed close behind, with Finn bringing up the rear. Carole handed the paperwork to the receptionist hurriedly on her way in.

The nurse led them to a tiny room that barely fit four people, let alone the five of them, and took Kurt's vitals. After making a few hasty notes, she went to get a doctor. There was nothing to do now but wait some more, and so they did.

They didn't have to wait long. The doctor introduced himself as Dr. Monroe when he came in, and after a quick conversation ("What seems to be the trouble?" "Well, he looks like he has the flu, but he can't stop coughing and he's running a high fever and we were just worried"), he asked that the entire family step out of the room and go back to the waiting room while he examined Kurt. Kurt did not want to be left alone with Dr. Monroe, who, though probably a nice man, was not someone who loved him or who he loved. He wished at least one of them could have stayed with him, but this was impossible, and so they left. Then, Dr. Monroe began his examination.

Finn was sick of waiting. Blaine thought he might throw up from the agony of anticipation and worry. Only Carole and Burt, who were experienced hands at this, looked remotely calm. Finn received text after text from New Directions members, as news of Kurt's hospitalization quickly spread through the group thanks to Quinn.

Tell Kurt I'm thinking about him – Artie

Kurt's sick? Man, that blows. Tell him I hope he gets better. We need his serious talent for nationals. – Puck

Yo, tell my boo I'm sending him so many virtual hugs right now! Love ya, Kurt! 3 – Mercedes

Tell Kurt I said get better now or else I'll come over there. - Santana

Kurt's sick? That sucks. Tell him I said hi, and also that I understand why he passed out now. – Brittany

Give Kurt love from Mike and me! – Tina

I hope Kurt feels better soon, man. This has got to be tough. – Sam

OMG, Kurt's at the hospital? How bad is it? Can he still sing? Is he alright? I wish I was with you right now! Tell him he needs to get better quick! – Rachel

Just as Finn was starting to respond to some of them, the wait was finally over. The doctor walked out with an unreadable expression on his face. He came over to them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hummel?" He asked.

"Yes," Carole answered quickly, standing and closing the gap between the doctor and herself. Burt followed. "What's going on? How is he? What's wrong with him?" Blaine and Finn stood up, waiting for the news.

"Well, it definitely looks like your son has a bad case of the flu," Dr. Monroe said. "However, it also seems like he might have pneumonia as well."

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><p><strong>AN: Dun dun DUNNNN! Oooh, another cliffy! I'm so evil! XD But, we now have a possible diagnosis. Is it really pneumonia? Is Kurt going to survive? There's only one way to find out! Please review, and I'll come out with another update very soon!<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed, and goodbye for now!**

**~PG22**


	10. Pins and Needles

**Author's Notes: So, I wanted to get this uploaded while I still have time. Things are getting a little bit busy as far as time goes, so I might be on a bit of a hiatus while I get some other stuff accomplished and also rehabilitate this story a little.**

**Thanks go out to Horsegahl, who is helping me become a better writer by reminding me that, contrary to how most of you feel, this story's plot still needs a bit of work. (I'm terrible at characterizations, so this comes as no surprise.) Thanks to her, I am reworking some other parts I have written but not published so that it's a little more believable. **

**Thanks to thunderincrimson who always has spectacular reviews for me and whose suggestions, as always, are very interesting and have gotten me thinking.**

**Thanks to Sakura12, who is always great for feedback on every chapter and who I always look forward to hearing from!**

**Thanks to Patricia Sage, who constantly comments and keeps me going strong with her kind words.**

**Thanks to peacegal45, who has me torn in whether or not to use my favorite plot device, and also for inspiring me to write and publish this. Without you, not only would this story not exist, but I wouldn't be here now.**

**Thanks to everyone else who bothered to review too! You are spectacular!**

**Also, a big thank you to RachelMarieCriss, who has given me a great inspiration and idea on where to go with this story. (It's somewhere I never would have thought of, either!)**

**On the topic of the contest on the Doctor's name, I'm going to keep it going just a little longer, and I should warn you, the character I based him on is not a doctor in this series - far from it actually. Thanks to those of you who have commented or messaged me with answers, and I hope to hear from more of you soon!**

**Blaine's parents did make it into this chapter briefly. I'll add more later, but for now, they don't care where he is or what he's doing so long as they aren't being bothered and their lives aren't being directly affected, because I've seen Blaine's parents portrayed as homophobic and unaccepting (is that even a word) of their son, which, though never directly mentioned, is highly plausible, so I'm going with it for now.**

**This is now the longest chapter in the fic, so sorry about the length. I figure this should hold you until I can get time to write more - which will be sooner rather than later. So, in honor of Glee's return tomorrow night, I present you all with this!**

**When we last saw our characters, they were just receiving the news of Kurt's possible diagnosis. Is it pneumonia? Is it something else? Is it deadly? Stay tuned.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 10: PINS AND NEEDLES (AND A DIAGNOSIS)<strong>

"_Well, it definitely looks like your son has a bad case of the flu," Dr. Monroe said. "However, it also seems like he might have pneumonia as well."_

Blaine Anderson was not a medical doctor. He didn't claim to know anything about medicine. He had never graduated from med school; for that matter, he had never even considered attending medical school or ever taken a physiology/anatomy class. But he didn't have to have ever done any of those things to know that having pneumonia as a complication of the flu almost never ended well. His heart dropped into his shoes at the doctor's words.

"Pneumonia?" Burt asked incredulously. He was standing only a few steps in front of Blaine, and yet in the Dalton boy's ears, he sounded distant, far away. "How could he have gotten that?"

"Well, we're still not certain he has it," the doctor said calmly. "But it could be from any variety of things: prolonged exposure to cold with a weakened immune system, bacteria or viruses that were in the environment, breathed in, and moved to his lungs, or even the virus that gave him that flu. Especially since he was already afflicted with the flu, he was much more susceptible. And by the looks of it, if it ends up being pneumonia, it's an unusually severe case, too."

Finn couldn't stop thinking of his stepbrother sleeping in wet clothes on his watch, or out in the cold puking into a trash can at the side of the house. He felt ashamed of himself. He should have known better, and now he felt responsible for Kurt's possible pneumonia. Blaine wasn't feeling a whole lot better. He wanted to strangle himself for not seeing it sooner, for not getting help for Kurt sooner, and now the poor boy Blaine loved was sitting all alone, coughing and sick.

"So, is it possible to check and see if Kurt has pneumonia?" Finn asked anxiously, his heart hammering in his chest.

"We're sending him for a chest x-ray now to confirm," Dr. Monroe said.

"And that will tell us for sure?" Burt asked.

"Yes," the doctor answered.

"Can we go with him?" Burt asked uneasily.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said shaking his head sadly. "No one else can be in there. He'll be back in about thirty minutes though, and then you may go see him." Even from the waiting room, Kurt's barking cough could be heard, loud, clear, forceful, and torturous to the ears of those who loved him so dearly. While the anxious and fearful family conversed with the doctor, a very different conversation was occurring back in a hospital room.

It was between Kurt and his head. He was trying desperately to get a grip on himself. He wished with fervor that he could stop coughing. It was so painful and was making his side hurt worse than ever, not to mention his headache and chest pain. He also knew how much it was probably grossing out the nurses and terrifying his family, who he was sure could hear it from the waiting room. He wished he was at home, in his own bed, with Blaine and the rest of his family by his side, not at a hospital catching more germs and awaiting a chest x-ray, and certainly not in a foreign, uncomfortable place, coughing his heart out with the impending doom of an IV looming over him. Suddenly, a nurse with a wheelchair arrived to take Kurt down for his x-ray, breaking up the monologue in his head. The young woman smiled kindly at him.

"Hello, Kurt," she said cheerfully. "I'm Amy and I'm your nurse for now. I'm going to take you to get a chest x-ray to see whether or not you have pneumonia, okay? It'll take about thirty minutes." Kurt wondered how one could be so cheery when talking about possibly having pneumonia. However, he simply nodded mutely, trying to move as little as possible to avoid another assault of pain and nausea. The nurse noticed him turn a faint shade of green.

"If you need to throw up, just tell me, alright?" She said.

"Okay," Kurt said in a small voice. Amy helped him stand, steadied him on his feet, and got him into the wheelchair as quickly and easily as was possible. She then wheeled him toward the room where he would get his x-ray and find out whether or not he had pneumonia. He really didn't want pneumonia, not on top of the flu. He knew enough about health to know that the two together was a really bad combination. He tried not to look so out of it and so lost. He was feeling miserable and afraid. He didn't know what lay ahead, just beyond the doors to the x-ray room, or what fate awaited him once the pictures were taken. The only thing he was sure of was that he was most certainly dying, with pain so intense it beat out anything else he'd ever felt.

G~G~G

Thirty minutes is a long time to wait, Finn realized. He had quickly tired of answering the texts from the New Directions and was trying to busy himself on the Internet on his cell phone, but he found it hard to concentrate on anything besides figuring out if Kurt was okay or not. At this point, Finn was noticing that even Burt and Carole were having a hard time remaining patient. Blaine couldn't stop wringing his hands in worry. He was physically praying for a miracle. He had let his parents know where he was long ago, but since they didn't particularly care what he did so long as it wasn't interfering with their peaceful lives, it didn't really matter that he'd even made the gesture.

Suddenly, Dr. Monroe returned to the waiting room and made his way over to the Hudson-Hummels. Just as before, the whole family crowded around the doctor. The results were obviously back, and the family was undoubtedly hoping for some good news about their son.

One look at the doctor's face and Blaine knew with absolute certainty and no doubts that no such news was coming. Perhaps it was the somber expression, or the worry lines, or the way he held himself formally, much more formally than when he had met them the first time. He got a sinking feeling in his gut as he realized things were about to go from bad to worse. The whole family seemed to notice the stoic, sober expression on Dr. Monroe's face, and their hope seemed to flicker out and die like a candle. Nobody said anything for a few seconds.

"Your son's chest x-ray came back," Dr. Monroe said. Burt nodded. Carole looked at the doctor expectantly, sure the bad news was coming next. And she was right. "He has a very severe case of pneumonia on top of a bad flu." For what felt distinctly like a full minute, nobody spoke a word.

"What can we do for him?" Carole asked suddenly.

"Is it serious?" Burt asked simultaneously.

"Is… is Kurt going to… you know… live?" Finn asked fretfully. Blaine said nothing for fear that opening his mouth would cause him to break down. The tangle of emotion that welled up within his heart was as unbearable as it was intense, and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"Well, we've moved him to a room now," Dr. Monroe said. "He's going to have to stay overnight at least, if not more than that. We're getting ready to start the IV with antibiotics and some fluids to keep him hydrated. His condition is very serious, but I don't believe it's entirely untreatable. It's still relatively early, though, so it's hard to say what's going to happen. I'd like to think he'll respond to treatment and recover, but I nothing's for certain at this point, and there is the chance he won't make it. I'm sorry I can't tell you much else at the present." Blaine felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut. The doctor had just told him his boyfriend, the object of his affections, the one thing he loved most in this world, was possibly going to die. His mouth was dry and his body was rigid. How do you react to finding out someone you love probably won't make it? He wanted to throw up or pass out or cry, or all three.

Finn wasn't doing too much better. Here Kurt had finally begun to heal after what had happened to him, and now his life might be taken away from him at sixteen. He felt sick to his stomach at how gruesome and ghastly this situation was. The world was so unkind, life so unfair. He wished he could switch places with his step brother, take away Kurt's hurt and agony and possible death, and transfer it to himself. That way, things could be a little more bearable for everyone. Burt was crushed and ready to break down himself. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his son, especially not so soon after losing the love of his life. Kurt had been the only thing he had for a long time, and he was not going to stop fighting, stop praying, stop working to make sure he came out of this. Carole was beside herself. Kurt was her son, regardless of the fact that they weren't biologically related. She would fight until the end to see him come out alive.

"We're going to start the IV now," Dr. Monroe said, pulling everyone from their silent reveries.

"Wait, woah," Burt said, holding his hands up to encourage the doctor to slow down a little. "IV? As in, with a needle?" Dr. Monroe looked slightly bewildered.

"Well, yes," he said. "I'd imagine so. There are very few ever done without a needle." Burt took on the expression of a suddenly crazed man, a man gripped so hard with fear and anxiety that it crowded every other rational thought in his head.

"I need to be in there _now_," Burt said urgently, starting off in the general direction of the rooms but having no idea where exactly he was going.

"Burt, why?" Carole asked, holding her husband's sleeve to hold him back for a second, taken aback by his sudden severity and urgency. The two boys and the doctor also looked relatively confused.

"Kurt's terrified of needles," Burt explained. "The last time they had to draw his blood, he passed out." Blaine cursed softly, under his breath, more out of shock than anything else. You'd think that this would have come up in conversation, he thought to himself. This was a very bad thing indeed, and Burt really needed to be in there, as did Blaine. Upon hearing this, the doctor did not try to hinder their progress to the room.

"Room 228 on the second floor," Dr. Monroe said, and led them where they needed to go. The group did everything short of run to get there as quickly as was humanly possible.

When they finally arrived, breathless and worried sick, the nurse was already in the process of prepping Kurt's IV. Although completely out of it and coughing his heart out, Kurt had terror stark in his baby blue eyes. He had paled considerably and was starting to break out in a cold sweat that was not a result of his current fever. Blaine nearly fainted from seeing all the monitors his boyfriend was currently attached to. _This must be worse than I thought_, Finn thought worriedly.

"Okay, Kurt," Amy was saying. "I need you to make a fist for me, okay?" She demonstrated what exactly it was she wanted him to do. Kurt was starting to hyperventilate a little as reality set in for him. There was a needle, a very big needle in the nurse's hand that was about to go into him. Amy noticed Kurt's obvious discomfort, but, upon seeing his family in the doorway, she smiled and beckoned for them to come in. They followed this commanding gesture almost in a trance. Blaine could distinctly see the relief in the woman's face. Kurt was most definitely starting to panic, and a panicking Kurt was a decidedly bad thing. Kurt seemed to relax slightly at the appearance of his Blaine. The tension in his chest ebbed slightly as he released a little of his anxiety in the form of exhaling, and his lungs took the opportunity to try and expel whatever was irritating them. He coughed again, a harsh and barking sound that wrenched the hearts of everyone in the room.

"Blaine," he croaked when he could speak again. "Thank god." Blaine chuckled softly, ruffling Kurt's hair tenderly.

"It's good to see you too," he joked. Then, Kurt saw his dad.

"Dad," he rasped, taking on yet another petrified expression. He swallowed, cringing as it irritated his sore throat. "I-I can't… not again…," he took a deep, shuddering breath and erupted in another fit of coughing.

"I know, Kurt," Burt said, coming closer to his son. "But they can't make you feel better unless they do this."

"I'm scared," Kurt said in a small voice, a heart-wrenching look on his face. He looked up shamefully at his boyfriend. "I hate needles." Blaine felt a surge of sympathy toward the poor sick boy.

"Baby," he soothed, genuinely not caring who heard. "We'll all be right here with you the whole way. It's okay to be scared, but they're going to make the pain go away by doing this." Kurt bit his lip anxiously. He looked over at his dad again.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "What if I start calling for mom again?" The reality of the situation sunk in. Kurt not only was afraid of needles, but also of bringing shame, humiliation, and pain on himself and his father by instinctively calling for someone who could not answer, be there, or comfort him. Burt smiled sadly down at his son.

"Then we all get to hear a kid who really wants his mom with him," Burt stated simply. "It's gonna be okay, kiddo. I promise. No one here's going to judge you." Everyone in the room nodded their agreement. Kurt swallowed hard in fear and winced. He then nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said shakily. He managed to make a weak fist and hold his arm out to Amy. His whole arm trembled, shaking with the effort of not pulling away. Amy smiled appreciatively and prodded at the spot she was looking to insert the needle. She then wiped the spot with an alcohol pad to somewhat numb it. Kurt clenched his teeth. He thought he could be brave and hold out, but his lower lip trembled and he leaned over into Blaine, seeking out the other boy's presence. Blaine sat on the bed to make it easier for both Kurt and the nurse, and Burt stood beside his son. Kurt grabbed his father's hand with his own free hand and squeezed it tightly. Burt returned the squeeze lovingly and wrapped his other arm around Kurt's shoulder protectively. Carole and Finn decided to hang back and give them all some space.

"Ready?" Amy asked kindly. Kurt couldn't help but whimper softly out of sheer terror. "Take a deep breath, okay?" Amy said, and started to come at him with the needle. Kurt tensed, and even not looking as he was, he could physically sense the presence of the sharp object he despised so fervently. He let out the breath he had taken and a soft scream came out of him unbidden as well as the air. Along with it came an onslaught of tears and sobbing, and a volley of weak coughs. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand it touching him; the moment it pierced his skin, he'd be either reduced to a screaming, babbling, sobbing wreck or out cold, whether or not she made it in the first time. He tried to force himself to calm down, to not call for his mom, but he was finding it increasingly difficult and utterly exhausting. He was too cold, too tired, in too much pain, and above all, too weak. He felt sick.

"One," Amy said gently, and Kurt's grip on his father's hand tightened considerably. "Two," she said, and Blaine cupped the back of his boyfriend's neck with his hand, holding Kurt steady and close to him. "Three." She pushed the needle into his skin but missed the vein, and Kurt screamed, feeling his consciousness quickly slipping away. He felt the world shiver and start to fade to the black nothingness he knew only came when there was a needle in him. He forced himself to remain conscious, not wanting to black out. He would _not _pass out again today, especially not in front of Blaine. All the color had drained from him, and he was a ghostly white. Amy tried again, but missed the second time too. Kurt shuddered and almost puked on Blaine out of utter fear. He restrained himself, but was physically shaking with the effort of not pulling away and keeping himself still for her. He was feeling lightheaded and dizzy and began hyperventilating.

He suddenly was unable to stop himself from seeing his mother's face and calling out softly, "Mom! Mom!" Burt squeezed Kurt's hand.

"You're doing great, buddy," he said reassuringly. "Just hold on, okay? It'll be over soon."

"You _are_ doing great, sweetheart," Amy said apologetically. "I'm so sorry." Kurt could do nothing but sit there, sobbing against Blaine's chest and cry out for his mom, over and over. Blaine rubbed Kurt's back lovingly.

"It's okay," he kept whispering, for lack of a better, more reassuring phrase. "It's okay."

"I'm going to try one more time, okay?" Amy said softly. "Just hold on." But the second Amy touched the head of the needle to Kurt's skin for the third time, he screamed bloody murder and started babbling like crazy about wanting his mom and not wanting to pass out and being sorry for whatever he did to deserve this, and apologizing and begging someone, anyone to forgive him and make it stop.

Finn looked on with eyes wide in fear. He was feeling so afraid. He'd never seen Kurt like this, so vulnerable, so small, so helpless, and so totally unhinged from fear and illness. He couldn't help but hug his mom tightly, looking for reassurance himself. He hid his face in her shirt, almost to the point of tears himself. He trembled almost as hard as Kurt did. His mom, understanding what he was shaking for, shielded his eyes with her loving arms so he wouldn't have to witness them torture his brother and friend anymore. She didn't watch either, but winced at every whimper, every sob, and every scream she heard.

It was taking all Blaine's willpower to not break down alongside his boyfriend. Although he knew his boyfriend's terrified begging was not totally directed at him, he couldn't help but feel evil, cruel, and horribly, horribly guilty as Kurt begged for him, for anyone to stop the torment. Blaine knew he could do nothing to help him, and wanted to kick himself for it. Kurt's tears were soaking into his jacket, but Blaine didn't care at all. He held his baby tightly, knowing somehow that just by being there he was surely doing at least _some_ good.

Amy stuck again and this time got the needle into the vein. Kurt shrieked and blacked out for a second in Blaine's arms, reviving pretty quickly due to his own resolve not to pass out. He then sat there sobbing, his face buried in Blaine's blazer. Blaine patted Kurt's head and raked his fingers through his boyfriend's tangled and unruly hair soothingly.

"See, it's over now," he said gently, but his voice was strained with emotion. "You're okay."

"You did great, Kurt," Amy said, patting the boy's shoulder and smiling. Burt squeezed Kurt's hand lovingly again.

"See?" He said. "Everything's okay." Amy quickly filled and hooked up the IV bags with antibiotics and fluids.

"The faster these get into your system, the better you'll start to feel," she told him, but he was barely listening. He was still feeling particularly dizzy and nauseous and still not quite "all there" from the ordeal, and all his pains had flared again, this time with more severity that probably came from prolonged contraction of his muscles now that he was relaxing.

"Alright," Amy said, finishing hooking everything up and swiping the wayward hair out of her face. "Go ahead and get yourself comfortable, Kurt. I'll be back in just a bit to add some more fluids and make sure everything's okay. I'll add a dose of sleeping medicine to your next one so you can hopefully get some rest, and I'm going to hook you up to some oxygen so you can breathe a little easier later too."

"Thank you," Burt said appreciatively. Amy smiled genially.

"No problem, she said and left the room.

"Kurt, baby, calm down," Blaine said softly. "It's over now. You did it. You're okay." But Kurt could not get a grip. He was still crying, and now he was coughing roughly every few seconds. Finn had yet to remove himself from his mother's arms, still unable to look at Kurt in such a state. Burt gently rubbed his son's back in soothing, rhythmic circles.

"Just relax, bud," he said softly, using the same gentle, loving tone he'd adopted in Kurt's bedroom just hours before. "It's all over. You're going to feel so much better now."

"I'm so s-s-sorry," he sobbed softly. "I c-c-can't make it s-s-stop!" He held Blaine tighter.

"Just breathe, Kurt," Blaine said. "Everything's fine."

"I s-saw m-mom," he cried softly. "A-And it hurt s-s-so b-bad."

"Shh," Burt said. "It's okay. The pain's going to go away, I promise." Kurt coughed a loud, wet, hacking cough that jostled his weakened body around again and again. It sounded painful to his family; it felt even more painful than it sounded.

It took several more minutes, but finally he managed to calm down enough to peel himself off Blaine's chest and take a few deep breaths that set him coughing yet again. At this point, Finn also let go of his mother, silently thanking her for just being there for him. Blaine stroked Kurt's hair lovingly.

"Lie down, sweetheart," Carole encouraged. "Rest. You can sleep now if you want." Kurt looked apprehensive.

"Blaine?" He asked softly. "Will you…?" But he didn't need to finish.

"Yes," Blaine said automatically. "I'll stay with you." Nobody protested at all, although Burt also intended to stay overnight just to monitor his son and make sure everything was okay. He knew how precious every second was now, and he tried to push the idea of it out of his head.

Kurt tentatively lied back against the pillow and pulled the blankets up, suddenly aware of how cold he was. His teeth chattered audibly as he tried to get comfortable. Blaine got off the bed to give him more room to stretch out and took a seat by the bedside. He took Kurt's hand from under the blankets and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, carefully tracing circles into his icy, pale skin as if he could cure Kurt's illness that way.

Burt sat down on the small couch by the window, and Carole went to join him. Finn took the other available chair. He figured out how to work the TV pretty quickly, and so they settled in for just a little while, at least until Kurt fell asleep or a hospital staff member kicked them out. Kurt's eyelids grew heavy as soon as things settled down and he realized how poorly he was still feeling. His long lashes fluttered, brushing his flushed, tearstained cheeks as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep out of sheer exhaustion.

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><p><strong>AN: So that's it for now. No cliffhanger this time - so sorry, guys! XD I hope you all liked. Leave me a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter, the whole story overall, or anything else! Enjoy the new episode tomorrow - I know I can't wait! Love you all, and hope to update again really soon!<strong>

**Ciao, friends, and Klaine on...,**

**~PG22**


	11. I'll Be

**Author's Note: ****Hello again, dear readers! Sorry for the long hiatus. I've been so busy, but also working especially hard because the next few chapters are very important. You should all know that I despise this chapter, but I can't think of a better way to segue into this drama and angst I have in store, so I'm putting it up. Twelve will be out really soon so this little interim thing won't be what you're left with forever.**

**Carole needs to be more motherly, I get that. I just don't see her being immediately accepted as a motherly figure, so I'm writing the relationship between she and Kurt a little stiffer than it's usually portrayed. I'll get better, I promise. I suppose they're all in shock over what's going on.**

**So many of you don't want him to die! I can't help but agree, but I don't know how this is going to play out. We'll all just have to wait and see, but for now, it's still very very possible!**

**As always, the reviews have been positively wonderful and helpful. I love hearing from all of you. You make this fun and interesting! Please keep it up.**

**On request, the New Directions could possibly make an appearance in the next couple of chapters. Keep your fingers crossed that I can get my act together for that epic meeting!**

**Disclaimer: Until Glee centers exclusively on Klaine, you can be sure that it does not belong to me.**

**Enjoy as well as you can:**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 11: I'LL BE<strong>

Only about twenty minutes had passed when Amy came back in.

"How's he doing?" She asked kindly, smiling sympathetically at the sleeping boy.

"Much better now that that's over," Burt said quietly so as not to wake his son. "Sorry about all that," he added. "I guess we should have warned you, he's got quite the phobia there."

"I understand," Amy said. "It's natural. Most people have that fear. You wouldn't believe how many patients a day come in with levels of terror higher than that. It's just a part of the job." She looked at Kurt apologetically. "Poor thing. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I missed. I'm sure that didn't feel too good."

"It's not your fault," Carole said softly. "That whole thing must be so difficult, and he was squirming pretty badly."

"Well, thank you," Amy said. She looked over at Kurt again, still sound asleep. "He must be exhausted," she said gently. She took the bag down, and refilled it with more fluids and some sleeping medicine so he could rest peacefully despite how badly he was feeling. She hung the bag back up and turned to the family.

"Everything's looking pretty good here, but I'm going to get him hooked up to some oxygen. I want to make sure he'll be able to breathe through the night, so I'm going to get him set up and then I'll go." She stepped out to grab the machine and then came back and hooked everything up.

"All good," she said, and smiled at the family. "I'll be back to check on him a little later, and I'll send the doctor in to make sure everything's good. Visiting hours end in about an hour, though, just to let you know."

"Thank you," Carole said.

"You're very welcome," Amy said and left.

"I'm going to stay tonight," Burt said quietly.

"Burt, that's not the smartest idea," Carole replied, touching her husband's arm, but she knew that there was no other option. She wanted to stay just as badly, wanted to be there for her son.

"Carole, I can't stand the thought of him waking up tomorrow morning and no one being here," Burt said firmly.

"But you have to go to work in the morning," Finn pointed out.

"Finn's right," Carole said gently. "That's not fair to you to have to go into work exhausted and worried."

"Well, Finn has school in the morning," Burt said, "so he can't stay. And you have work too. Who's going to stay with him tonight?"

"I will," Blaine said, speaking up for the first time. Every head snapped over to look at the Dalton boy, which made him squirm uncomfortably and look up at them.

"Blaine?" Carole asked kindly. "Don't you have to go to school in the morning?" Blaine shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "Dalton's already off for spring break since this afternoon."

"Are your parents…? I mean, would they be okay with this?" Carole asked, concerned.

"They'll be fine with it, I'm sure," Blaine said, offering no more of an explanation.

"Blaine, dear, are you sure?" Carole asked.

This seemed like the perfect solution. Carole would try to get them to give her half the day off so she could get up there and be with him and let Burt do his job, as he had several appointments for tomorrow and couldn't skip them. Finn could come up after school, and then once spring break started, they could all be there for Kurt.

"I'm absolutely sure," Blaine said adamantly. "If you'll allow it, I can stay the night tonight just to make sure everything's okay." Carole looked questioningly over at Burt, who was unusually quiet.

"Either way," he said finally, "I'm not leaving tonight." At this point, he wasn't thinking of all the people who had called in for an appointment, and all those who were experiencing car trouble this very evening and were planning to come in unannounced in the morning to get their vehicles looked at. He didn't care. It would be a busy day, and his staff could get along fine without him. He knew that everyone in town would want a tune-up or to get their car checked before they left for their holiday, but the staff would just have to deal with it.

"Alright," Carole said uncertainly. "If you're sure, sweetheart." Then, to Blaine, she said, "That would be really helpful, Blaine, thank you."

"No problem," he said. "It's something I'd be more than happy to do." They didn't know if it was against hospital rules or not, but they didn't bother asking. They sat a little while longer, in silence but for the constant low drone of the TV. In about an hour, just as they expected, a hospital staff member came in and told them that visiting hours had officially ended. The family stood silently and gathered their belongings. Burt said goodbye to his wife with a kiss.

Carole walked to the side of the bed and stroked Kurt's hair affectionately, kissing his feverish forehead tenderly. She hugged Blaine and Burt and told them to be safe, like all mothers would, and also to call if anything happened. Finn nodded to his stepfather and simply patted his stepbrother's arm awkwardly.

"Feel better, Kurt," he said softly, and then nodded to Blaine. "Thanks," he said. Blaine nodded in response.

"No problem," he said. "See you tomorrow, Finn." He didn't know how to apologize for snapping at Finn, but he hoped this helped a little.

"See you," Finn said with a forced smile, understanding.

"Please call us if anything, _anything_ happens," Carole said again.

"We will," Burt promised. They then left. Blaine took his seat by the bed once again, and Burt sat where Finn had been on Kurt's other side. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

"I'll call one of the nurses and see if they can get you a cot for the night," Burt said gruffly, finally breaking the silence. Blaine looked up in surprise.

"Thank you," Blaine said shyly, nodding. Kurt's breath caught in his sleep, and Burt snapped to attention, gripping his son's hand. Kurt's breathing went back to normal then, and Burt laughed halfheartedly.

"You know," he said. "I guess now I know how he felt when I had that heart attack earlier this year." Blaine studied his boyfriend's features, feeling awkward, but he nodded.

"Kurt told me about it," Blaine said softly. "He said he'd never felt as worried about anyone as he did in those moments." Burt nodded slowly.

"I believe it," he said. "And I think now I know what he means by that." There was a long pause. "You know, I can't help but remember him as the energetic little kid he was, so full of life and love. And then he started school and the world just… started to beat him down. He's finally found some sort of happiness, and now the world is going to take it from him, and take him from us." Burt sighed. "I see so much of his mother in him." Blaine almost wanted to cry. He didn't quite know or understand why Mr. Hummel was opening up to him about all this, but he figured it would be smart to just let him talk.

"You've been a godsend, you know," Burt said softly after a long pause. Blaine looked up.

"How?" He asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Before you came into his life, he really didn't have anybody he could depend on, or anybody… like him," Burt said in an equally quiet voice. "He… trusts you." Blaine was rendered speechless.

"Well, you should know that I care deeply about him, too," Blaine said. "He's so much more than a best friend to me."

"I know," Burt said. "He's such a great kid. He doesn't deserve this pain, just like he didn't deserve anything he was put through this year. But he did deserve a friend, and frankly, I'm glad you're it." Blaine smiled at the compliment.

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel," he said. When Burt offered no more, Blaine was forced to confront his thoughts.

The words of the doctor played over and over in his head: _"His condition is very serious, but I don't believe it's entirely untreatable. It's still relatively early, though, so it's hard to say what's going to happen. I'd like to think he'll respond to treatment and recover, but I nothing's for certain at this point."_

When Blaine was younger, he used to believe that doctors were the most powerful humans on Earth. He believed that they could do anything, cure anything. When he'd go for a check-up with his mom, he'd be relieved when the doctor said nothing was wrong with him, but if something was wrong, he'd feel relieved that he was with the doctor so he or she could cure him. He had believed that medicine was the magic potion, a cure for everything. Now, he wasn't so sure. There were so many uncertainties, so much riding on a gamble. Now, just because there were antibiotics flowing through Kurt's veins, it didn't mean he was going to live through this illness. In fact, there was a very good chance he _wouldn't_ live. The thought brought tears to Blaine's eyes. He felt like someone was stomping on his chest.

_Please get better, Kurt,_ Blaine thought in anguish. _I couldn't live with myself if you died._

The evening was low key, with very minimal conversation between the two men. As promised, Burt did call down for a cot, which a nurse wheeled in a little later and then checked on Kurt again. Blaine wordlessly set it up. Around ten-thirty, both of them realized that Kurt was not going to awaken thanks to the medication, and so they bid one another goodnight and curled up, Blaine on the cot and Burt on the couch, and tried to get some sleep before the morning.

Nobody could have predicted that during this particular spring break, the Midwest would experience the strangest, coldest spring weather they'd ever seen, and that that weather would be the cause of so much more than a few scratched plans.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading. I'm sorry, it's short and it's bad, but I'll be back in less than a week for the next installment. (Also, I couldn't help but leave it on another cliffy... I'm evil like that.) Please review, and see you all really soon!<strong>

**~PG22**


	12. Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! It's late and I have a very hectic few weeks ahead, so I wanted to get this out before all the craziness happened. Also, I didn't really want to leave you on Chapter 11 for another week. :)**

**This is (sadly) the last chapter I currently have pre-written, so the next one is still in progress as we speak (and with all the stuff looming just ahead starting Monday, things are looking bad as far as getting it written out in a timely fashion). Hopefully, I will have that one up and running soon, but for now, please enjoy this.**

**As far as the contest, no one was able to guess it, but Dr. Monroe is named after Monroe, the "Big Bad Wolf" from Grimm (another favorite fandom of mine).**

**Thanks, as always, to everyone who submitted feedback. I love feedback, if you couldn't tell, and you all are so amazing at giving it!**

**Also, Happy early Valentine's Day! (I don't particularly enjoy Valentine's Day, but there's possible Klaine involved for the 14th so I certainly can't complain!)**

**Disclaimer: Glee is so not mine.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 12: SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW<strong>

Blaine blinked into the darkness. It was definitely too early to be awake, based on the dimness of the room. Blaine was usually a relatively heavy sleeper. He wondered what could have awakened him so early. He couldn't remember where he was for a second, and sat up, disoriented. He almost fell off the cot, which was when he remembered that he was still at the hospital with Kurt. He looked over in the general direction of the couch. He could sort of make out Burt's form, sound asleep on top of it. He looked over at the hospital bed and gasped, jumping about a mile as he stared straight into the bleary and fever-bright of his boyfriend.

"God, Kurt," he whispered, clutching his chest. "Are you okay? You nearly gave me a heart attack." When Kurt didn't respond, Blaine got up and went silently to the bedside.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said weakly, but then could say no more. Blaine realized it must have been he who woke him up.

"Kurt, baby, is everything alright?" He asked. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered that Kurt was not supposed to wake up in the middle of the night. The sick boy was breathing unusually heavily and rapidly, and he was trembling. Blaine considered calling a nurse, but suddenly realized what was happening. He grabbed a basin off the table to the side of the bed and held it under Kurt, who took it gratefully and shuddered. It took a few seconds for it to catch up with him, and then he started to dry heave painfully, the force wrenching his body forward, the sound causing his father to wake up abruptly.

"Kurt!" Burt said anxiously, getting up and rushing over to his son. Blaine helped Kurt hold the basin steady in trembling hands, and Burt came over and rubbed his son's back soothingly.

"I-I'm fine, dad," Kurt managed to choke weakly when he was done.

"No, you're not fine," Burt said. "The fluids and antibiotics were supposed to help that. I should call the doctor…." Suddenly, Kurt reached his hand out weakly and touched his father's arm.

"Please don't," he pleaded softly. "I'm okay now. I'm just tired and I want to sleep." Burt softened his fierce gaze at his son's words.

"Okay, buddy," he said. "But if you're not getting better, then we have to get someone to check you out." Kurt started coughing again, hard, fast, and barking.

"Okay," he said, then gently added, "please relax. I just vomited. I've done it plenty of times today. I really just want to sleep."

"Alright," Burt conceded hesitantly, still unconvinced. He tenderly kissed his son's forehead. "Wake me up if you need anything, alright?"

"Okay," Kurt said languidly, lying back against the pillow. Blaine went back to his cot and Burt took his position back on the sofa, falling asleep pretty quickly.

Blaine had closed his eyes and was nearly asleep when Kurt whispered softly, "Blaine?" Blaine looked up and swung his legs off the cot, coming around to the bedside, where he flopped down groggily in a chair and pushed his fingers through Kurt's hair.

"Yes, baby, what is it?" He asked in a whisper.

"Is my dad asleep?" Kurt whispered back. Blaine glanced over with his one hand still entangled in Kurt's messy hair, and saw that Burt was in fact sleeping soundly.

"Yeah," Blaine answered softly. "Why? What's wrong? Do you need me to wake him for you?"

"No," Kurt said. "He's a worrier." Blaine stared at him. He had said it with an air of finality, as though that cleared his cryptic behavior up entirely.

"Okay," Blaine whispered uncertainly, not sure where his boyfriend was going with this. "He has a good reason to worry."

"I don't want to make him worry," Kurt said softly, as if he were talking to himself. "Not so soon after his heart attack." He looked up at Blaine with big, watery eyes. "I don't want to make you worry, either."

"Babe, you need to stop worrying about everyone else and start thinking of yourself for a change," Blaine said softly, pushing the sweaty bangs off Kurt's forehead.

"Blaine," Kurt said, suddenly uneasy. Something in both his tone and facial expression told Blaine he had something serious on his mind.

"Yes?" Blaine asked nervously.

"I don't want to die," the other teenager said, and tears began to flow unchecked from his eyes. Blaine sat there gaping awkwardly like a fish for just a second. Once he came to his senses, he gripped Kurt's hand and kissed it softly.

"Oh, baby," he said. "Baby, I don't want you to die either. No one does."

"What if it kills me like they said it could," Kurt asked, wiping at his eyes but only succeeding in spreading the hot, wet tears around his face and hands. "I'm not ready to leave this world, to leave my dad… to leave you." At those words, Blaine could no longer keep himself from crying.

"You have to fight back then," Blaine said, "or it will take everything from you, and take you from us."

"I don't know how much fight I have left in me, though," Kurt confided, looking down at his hands.

"You have to fight," Blaine said adamantly. "Fight this disease every second of every day and don't stop fighting it and trying to rid yourself of it until you win."

"I'm not strong enough, Blaine," Kurt murmured tearfully. Blaine cupped his boyfriend's chin in his hand and gently lifted it so they were looking at each other eye to eye.

"Listen to me, Kurt," Blaine said firmly. "You are. You are the strongest person I know, the biggest inspiration I have, and I'll fight right alongside you every step of the way. You don't have to face this thing alone. I won't ever leave your side, but you have to believe you can beat it back." Kurt swallowed hard and winced. He blinked rapidly, small droplets of moisture flicking off his long lashes as he did.

"For you," he murmured, looking into Blaine's eyes, "I will fight until the death." Blaine smiled through his own tears.

"Good," he said, and then started to sing quietly in his rich tenor voice, "And if you have a minute why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything, so why don't we go somewhere only we know?"

"Somewhere only we know," Kurt echoed softly, his usually crisp soprano voice raspy, quivering, and tainted with congestion, but still beautiful to Blaine's ears.

"Somewhere only we know," he finished, and smiled. "Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay," Kurt said with a stifled yawn. He lied back and Blaine tucked the covers around him. As he leaned down to tenderly kiss his boyfriend, Blaine was suddenly seized about the neck by a weak yet loving pair of arms that had popped out from under the sheets.

"I love you," Kurt whispered, his face buried in Blaine's collarbone. Blaine's heart picked up speed and he lovingly hugged back, savoring the way the other boy felt in his arms, no matter how hot or wet or fragile or sick he was. Something in that embrace felt so right, so perfect, that Blaine suddenly felt a surge of undying affection and peace.

"I love you too," he murmured, and Kurt kissed his cheek fervently. When he lied back down, he looked physically drained. Blaine covered him up once again and smoothed the blankets around him. Instead of going back to his cot however, he sat back down by the bed and gently ran his thumb along Kurt's hairline repeatedly until the ill boy finally fell asleep. Then and only then did Blaine move to his own cot, falling asleep promptly after his head hit the pillow.

G~G~G

It felt to Blaine as if he'd only gotten an hour of sleep before noises in the room woke him yet again. This time, remembering where he was, he looked over at Kurt, intuitively knowing it was his sick boyfriend who had awakened him again. He was right. Looking over, he noticed that Burt was up already and at his son's side.

Kurt was caught in the throes of a dreadful nightmare. He was experiencing night sweats, something that had never happened to him before. He was tossing and turning, borderline flailing, and his body was rigid and alert, though he was still very much asleep. He saw terrible images in his head of getting shot, being burned alive, being buried alive, of his father dying, and of bullies and haters beating the living crap out of he and Blaine. He fought it. He fought it back hard, and was now breathless, choking, and gasping.

Blaine got up immediately and moved over to the bed. He looked at his boyfriend with a heart that was literally aching. He didn't know what to do or how to handle the situation, and he was suddenly very glad there was an adult present. Burt looked equally pained, but also panicked. He knew Kurt had nightmares – he'd had them since his mother died – but never to this degree of severity. He tried to remember if it was okay to wake a person who was having a nightmare or if it was like a sleepwalker and you weren't supposed to.

_The hell with it_, Burt thought. _Like it even matters._ And he gently shook his son's shoulder while calling his name softly.

"Kurt," he said. "Kurt, buddy, wake up. It's just a bad dream." But Kurt could not hear anything past the thundering of his own pounding heart in his ears and the silent screams he was uttering. He was so afraid of the images in his head, so completely consumed by fiery fear, that even the gentle shaking of his shoulder felt like someone attempting to rip his arm off. He was so weak however, that he couldn't move to defend himself. He tried to thrash and jerk away, but nothing seemed to be working. Burt worked to steady his son, pinning his arms down as gently as possible so he couldn't harm himself or anyone else. Kurt did not particularly like this in his fevered dreams. He felt tied down, vulnerable.

"Kurt," Blaine said, joining in with Burt. "Kurt, wake up." Kurt tossed and turned and thrashed about wildly from his trapped position, and nothing the two men did seemed to make it better. It took a lot of doing, but they finally got him to wake up. Kurt shot up in bed with a gasp as though he had been underwater or running for miles. He gasped for air and coughed painfully, suddenly tearful as he realized where he was and what had happened. He grasped the fact that it was just a nightmare and that nothing was going to hurt him except this disease. He came back in touch with reality. He buried his face in his hands, trying to get a grip before things went too far and he stopped his own breathing. It was only a dream, he tried to tell himself, but everything had seemed so real. Without even knowing it, he found his father's arms and threw himself into them fervently, hugging him tightly and crying into his shoulder.

"Shh," Burt said, patting his son on the back lightly. "Shh, it's okay. I've got you." Blaine blinked back his own tears at this display and hurried off to the bathroom. He wiped his eyes with a piece of toilet paper, strengthening his resolve to stay strong for Kurt's sake. He snagged a washcloth and wet it, returning to the room with it. Kurt was still hugging his dad, who was rubbing his back gently and speaking in low murmurs words too soft and incoherent for Blaine to hear from where he stood. Blaine hung back, knowing that Kurt really needed his dad in that moment.

Once Kurt finally made himself let go of Burt, Blaine rested his hand on Kurt's forehead and winced.

"It's no wonder you're having such terrible dreams," Blaine said softly. "You're still really warm." He laid the cloth against Kurt's feverish skin. Louder, to Burt, he repeated, "He's still really warm."

"Okay, that's it, we need a doctor in here," Burt said impatiently, worriedly, getting up and making toward the call button.

"Dad," Kurt rasped weakly.

"Kurt, they need to know the medicine's not helping," Burt said before his son could protest.

"Dad," Kurt repeated in that same weak and pained voice. Burt looked over.

"Yeah, bud?" He asked, looking into Kurt's watering eyes.

"I don't feel good," he said, unintentionally making the same grammatical error Finn had made only hours previously. No one corrected him.

"I'll get a doctor," Burt promised. "Just hold on." He pushed the call button hastily.

It only took a few minutes for the doctor to show up. This time, it wasn't Doctor Monroe, but one from the night staff.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Doctor Wilhelms. What seems to be the problem?"

"Hello," Burt said, ignoring formalities like shaking hands with the woman and cutting straight to the chase. "That's my son. They gave him some sleeping drugs, but he's still waking up in the middle of the night, he threw up again a few hours ago, he can't stop coughing, and he's still running a fever." The doctor checked over a few things.

Finally, she said, "I'm going to up the dosage on the medication," she said. "The antibiotics don't seem to have done much, so we'll give him a slightly stronger dose and the same goes for the sleeping medicine. That should do it for the night."

"Thank you," Burt said earnestly. The doctor only nodded, scribbling something down and then stepping out of the room. A nurse came in then and quickly fixed up the IV bags with the proper levels of medication.

When the drugs started to take effect, Kurt got visibly drowsy very quickly. Both men noticed.

"Sleep," Burt told his son. "It's okay. We'll both be here when you wake up." Kurt nodded and he began to relax, slowly at first, but then he suddenly went slack and fell fast asleep, the drugs knocking him out completely. Blaine, who had been silent since the doctor had come, spoke at last.

"Has he always had nightmares like that?" He asked.

"Like that?" Burt asked. "Like the one he just had?" Blaine nodded. Burt sighed.

"No," he said finally. "That severe terror is new." Blaine nodded his understanding.

"Whatever he sees, it must be killing him," he said softly.

"Yeah," Burt agreed, and his voice was tainted with a hint of anguish. "I imagine that's true."

"I wish I could help," Blaine said wistfully.

"More than you already have?" Burt asked bluntly. "Blaine, I may not know you very well, but I know you're definitely doing my son one hell of a good by just being here." He noticed how tired the younger boy looked, though still alert and on edge. "Get some sleep," Burt advised. "It looks like he's out for the night anyway."

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said. Burt just nodded. "You should get some sleep too, sir." Burt sighed.

"I will," he promised, sitting down by the bedside. "I just want to make sure he's okay first." Blaine nodded silently.

"Well, goodnight," he said. Burt smiled slightly.

"G'night, Blaine," he said. Blaine noticed him take his son by the hand and squeeze softly. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the sound of the rushing wind outside and the blurry sight of Burt hunched over the bed with a look of pure pleading on his face. Then he fell into a deep sleep. Burt also went back to sleep an hour or so later once he was sure Kurt was okay. The whole world seemed quiet and peaceful… for now.

Nobody looked outside. Nobody saw the sheets of rain turn into sheets of sleet. Nobody noticed the temperature rapidly dropping and the roads silently and smoothly icing over. And nobody would. Not yet, anyway.

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you all liked! Let me know what you thought by leaving me a comment or review! Love you all!<strong>

**!PG22**


	13. Blackbird

**Author's Note: Hello again, dear readers! As promised, here is chapter 13, just before a glorious Friday.**

**This will be the only installment until next Sunday at least, so I do hope you enjoy.**

**Upon request from one of you lovely reviewers, I have attempted to write fluff for this chapter. I hope it brings back everyone's faith and maybe boosts some spirits!**

**As always, the reviews and feedback I receive make me so very happy. Thanks to you all for your magnificent words.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. (And I don't know how to do origami either.)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 13: BLACKBIRD<strong>

The next morning brought with it a rather uncommon spring frost that potentially killed all the new plants and also the happy spirits of the Midwest's would-be spring breakers.

Kurt remained asleep until about 8:30. When he awakened, it was because he had to cough. He sat up in bed and coughed his head off until he managed to cough up more bloody sputum. Blaine was so exhausted from the previous night's adventures that he slept through this. Burt however was on alert for such things as this and got up immediately. His son was literally shaking with the force of the coughs and the exertion it put on his body. Burt gently ran his fingers through Kurt's hair, trying to be soothing but ending up feeling awkward. When Kurt was finally able to stop coughing, he leaned up against his dad.

"I feel like I'm dying," he moaned groggily.

"I know, buddy," Burt said. "That's gotta hurt."

"A lot," Kurt croaked in confirmation. Burt patted his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

"You're okay," he said.

"Everything hurts," Kurt whimpered meekly.

"Still?" Burt asked incredulously. Kurt nodded and coughed again. This time, when he went for a breath, he wheezed slightly.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly. "This is… the worst I've ever felt."

"I know, Kurt," Burt said lovingly. "I know." Kurt started into another volley of coughs, loud, wet, and wrenching. When he finished, he groaned softly.

"I hate this," he said, just to say it out loud. Burt nodded.

"No one likes being sick," he agreed. He then took out his phone and turned it on, thinking he would let Carole know they'd made it through the night. However, before he got the chance, it vibrated in his hand with a text message and two missed calls from his wife. He checked the text first.

The roads are slick. Everything iced over last night. At first, Burt thought he was receiving a practical joke, but one look out the window told him otherwise. There was traffic bumper-to-bumper on the roads, and the streets were indeed shiny and slick. There was more freezing rain falling from a cloudy sky above.

"Well I'll be damned," he murmured under his breath. He flipped on the TV for a second, changing it to the morning news. Sure enough, every news station was covering the story, "Unseasonable Weather Rocks Lima." He caught small clips of what they were saying:

"Roads are literally iced over right now."

"The temperature continues to drop, and the rain continues to fall, offering no help to morning commuters."

"Be careful out there."

"The roads are backed up for miles."

"We have report of a seventh accident in the last hour."

Everyone was saying how this was the coldest a spring day had been in over fifty years in Lima, with a high temperature of 10 degrees and still rapidly falling. Burt couldn't believe it. He was suddenly very glad he had chosen to stay the night with Kurt at the hospital.

"That looks bad," Kurt slurred languidly, his eyes falling closed. Burt assumed the disease was sapping his strength.

"Yeah, it does," Burt agreed. "I hope Finn and Carole don't get caught in it."

"Mmm," Kurt agreed softly, his body slowly relaxing into the bed. Suddenly, there was the sound of a stomach rumbling loudly, and Kurt's eyes slowly slid open.

"Was that you, dad?" He asked, stifling a giggle behind his hands. Burt smiled sheepishly and chuckled right along with his son.

"Yeah," he said shamefully.

"_Dad_," Kurt admonished weakly. "You can't neglect your own health for my sake! You still have to take care of yourself. Go get some breakfast."

"I'm fine, Kurt," Burt said. "Besides, I'm not just going to leave you here."

"Dad, you need to eat," Kurt said in a weak, strained voice. "Please don't risk anything. It's bad enough I'm here, but if you had another heart attack…," the boy couldn't finish; the very idea upset him so much, he was rendered speechless.

"Alright, it's alright," Burt soothed, patting his shoulder and trying to calm him down. "Are you sure you'll be okay here?" Kurt took a deep breath and nodded.

"It's not like I'm alone," he said. "Blaine's here too, don't forget. I can always wake him if anything happens."

"Right," Burt said with a nod. "Do you want anything?" Kurt automatically looked queasy at the mention of food and shook his head quickly.

"No," he said. "I can't even think about eating."

"Okay, okay," Burt said. "I understand. How about some water?" Kurt thought about that for a second.

"Yeah," he said finally, nodding slowly. "That sounds great." Burt glanced over at the other boy, who was still sleeping peacefully on the cot.

"Do you think Blaine would want anything?" Burt asked his son.

"Coffee for sure," Kurt said. "I don't know what Blaine usually likes in the morning."

"Well, I'll get him a muffin or something from the cafeteria while I'm down there," Burt said.

"Okay," Kurt said, his stomach twisting painfully. "Great."

"Try to get some more rest," Burt told his son. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay, I will," Kurt said. "Take your time." Burt hesitated for a second, but then promised himself to only be gone for a few minutes and headed off in search of something to eat.

Kurt lied back heavily, still not fully recovered from his coughing fit and the idea of his father in the next room. The very thought of that made him suddenly succumb to the nausea that was threatening, and he barely had time enough to snatch the bucket off the bedside table before he was wretchedly ill. Blaine still did not stir. Kurt wanted to wake him, but he was suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing that left him breathless and gasping. The sound of this traveled to Blaine's ears and he sat up with a start. He stretched quickly, his back cracking audibly several times. He yawned, disoriented, and looked over at Kurt, who was desperately trying to get a grip on himself.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice thick with sleep. Kurt only coughed in response, gasping for air.

"Kurt?" Blaine repeated, sitting up and jumping down from the cot. He moved over to the bedside quickly, where he patted Kurt on the back gently until he stopped coughing. Blaine took the bucket out of the other boy's shaky hands, setting it off to the side so he could make sure Kurt was okay.

"Can you breathe?" Blaine asked. Kurt took a tentative, steadying breath and nodded apprehensively.

"I-I think so," he stuttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Babe, it's okay," Blaine reassured him. "Relax, okay? Last night was a rough night for you. Just take a breather, and stop worrying." Blaine went and cleaned out the basin as efficiently as he could, bringing it back to the bedside. Kurt was still staring at his hands, wheezing audibly as his shoulders rose and fell rapidly. Blaine sat down beside him with a cool, wet washcloth. He gently pushed Kurt back against the pillow and shoved the boy's bangs out of the way, laying the cloth across his feverish forehead. He took the sick boy by the clammy, pale hand.

"Feeling better?" He asked softly.

"No," Kurt whispered softly, and his face conveyed so much unspoken pain. "Not really."

"I'm so sorry, baby," Blaine said with a cluck of his tongue. "I wish I could help make it better."

"S'okay," Kurt said softly. "I'm glad you stayed."

"Are you kidding?" Blaine asked with a small smile. "It's my pleasure." They sat in silence for a few moments, Kurt fighting against the urge to sleep. He had plenty of time to sleep later – perhaps when this disease took his life. For now, he was determined to stay awake with his Blaine, if only for just a little while.

"Where's your dad?" Blaine finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I sent him to go get himself breakfast," Kurt said softly. "His stomach was making noises that could wake the dead."

"Ah," Blaine said nodding once.

"He's bringing something back for you," Kurt continued. "I didn't know what you liked, but…."

"That's great," Blaine said appreciatively. "Thank you." Another silence settled between the two boys. Blaine was getting antsy. He realized with a start that there was nothing for Kurt to do but watch TV, talk, or sleep. His phone was nearly dead and he had no charger for it, having come as suddenly as he had. He could run down to the gift shop to get some magazines or cards, but he wasn't about to leave his boyfriend all alone. His eyes searched the room and suddenly came upon a small pad of paper on the bedside table by the phone. He reached over and grabbed it, tearing off a sheet and dropping Kurt's hand. He silently began to fold the paper in complex patterns.

"What are you doing?" Kurt inquired curiously, peering at the paper.

"Hang on," Blaine said, his brow creased in absolute concentration as he tried to remember the exact science involved in what he was doing. Kurt watched the lithe, coordinated movement of his hands as he creased and tucked the paper square in repeat movements. The effect was almost hypnotic, and he watched as though in a trance. Blaine finished relatively quickly, and the product was a small paper crane. Kurt marveled at it.

"Origami?" He asked in a slightly awed voice. "You know how to do origami? That's so cool."

"Yeah," Blaine said, fiddling with the crane for a second before setting it down on the bedside table. "My mom taught me when I was younger. I can do lots of other things: frogs, cubes, flowers…. But the crane is still my favorite. It's a symbol of peace, luck… hope." Kurt looked both impressed and mildly curious.

"How so?" He asked.

"My mom told me that if you crafted one thousand of these, you got a wish. And I know it works, because my mom's best friend actually made a thousand and wished for her husband. They've been happily married since. I figure I'm nearly there; my room is full of them - I've been at this since I was six. Back then I wanted to wish for a little brother."

"What would you wish for now?" Kurt asked curiously in a voice barely above a whisper. Blaine paused a second.

"You, of course," Blaine said softly after a short time. "I'd wish for your good health." Kurt was touched.

"You'd give up your wish for me?" Kurt asked quietly, incredulously.

"I'd give up anything to know you'd be safe and feeling better," Blaine promised meaningfully, staring into the beautiful blue eyes he'd fallen for many months ago. They sat silently for a second.

"Could you teach me how?" Kurt asked. "Maybe I can help so we can finish your thousand and make that wish together." Blaine smiled.

"Of course," he said. He tore off another sheet of paper and gave it to Kurt. He at first tried stating instructions, but that quickly became too confusing. Instead, he took Kurt's hands in his own and helped him make the folds in the proper order. The two boys worked together, making creases and folds in the paper, Kurt's hands doing most of the work and Blaine's guiding, until it started to resemble a crane. Suddenly, there was no longer a piece of hospital paper in their hands, but a small figure of hope.

"See?" Blaine breathed. "Easy." Kurt cupped his hand around the small, paper figurine. It sat dignifiedly in his palms. Blaine cupped his hands around Kurt's, and they admired their handiwork.

"That's awesome," Kurt said appreciatively. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"You're welcome," Blaine said. "I'll run down to the gift shop later and buy some more paper and we can make more to add to the collection." Kurt offered a small smile.

"Great," he said enthusiastically, and after giving it one last approving gaze, set the second crane down on the bedside table in front of the tissue box right next to the other one.

"Hey, they look like us," Kurt commented suddenly.

"How so?" Blaine asked, his brow creased in confusion. He peered at the little paper statues curiously. Then, he laughed out loud. "Yeah, they kinda do," he agreed. It was true: Blaine's crane was a trifle shorter than the one he and Kurt had crafted together. Also, Kurt's crane was slightly rumpled from how they had held it and was looking slightly more battered. The two boys shared a silent moment where a tender look passed between them. Suddenly, Blaine cupped Kurt's face in his hands and leaned in close.

"I love you," he said, with that look of pure adoration and love that tended to appear every time he laid eyes on his boyfriend.

"Love you too," Kurt croaked hoarsely. Blaine gently, oh so gently touched his lips to Kurt's forehead, moving slowly down to his flushed cheek, then down half his jaw line and right to his lips, trailing gentle, loving kisses as he went. Kurt remained perfectly still, his eyes closed, allowing this to happen. He moaned very softly when he felt Blaine's lips peck his own.

"Don't," Kurt warned anxiously, jerking away slightly. "You'll catch this."

"I won't," Blaine promised. "It's okay." Kurt trembled slightly. Blaine lovingly stroked Kurt's forehead with one hand, his other still cupped against Kurt's cheek.

"Courage," he reminded Kurt. "I'm always here for you." Kurt smiled through his pain.

"Hope," he murmured back softly, lifting his hand in order to take hold of Blaine's. He squeezed weakly. "Love will find a way."

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><p><strong>AN: I hope it was fluffy enough for you. I wanted to leave you all with a little bit of hope for now! :) Heads up: New Directions to appear next chapter, so hooray for that!<strong>

**As always, I would really appreciate your reviews, so if you can spare a second, I'd be really grateful!**

**Love you all! Ciao!**

**~PG22**


	14. Say

**Author's Notes: Hello, lovely readers! I'm so sorry it's been so long since my last update. The show is finally over and I can finally refocus my energy on this (and school, of course), to bring you the best!**

**So, no sick!Kurt in this part - just some good ol' ND! And Sue. Lots of Sue Sylvester-ness. I do hope everyone's in character. (I tried really hard to make it sound believable!) Also, I didn't write Lauren Zizes in here; I didn't know how to write her so I'm sort of denying her existence at this point.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Wow, over 100! You all are so incredibly sweet and generous with the feedback! I can't thank you enough.**

**I promise, more will come very soon, with more Kurt _and_ New Directions together!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 14: SAY (WHAT YOU NEED TO SAY)<strong>

Finn couldn't believe how unlucky he was. First, his brother – okay, half-brother, but still technically related – ends up fighting for his life in a hospital and, he had to leave, still worried and scared. Then, the roads iced over during the night on account of a wretched and unexpected temperature swing, and he had been late to school, almost getting into an automobile accident. That was another reason he was unlucky – McKinley was one of the only schools not off for the day. Now, he was stuck at school with no hope of getting out early and worried sick about his brother. As was expected, as he was deep in thought about his epic unluckiness, the New Directions bombarded him as soon as he got to school.

"Is he okay?" Was the first thing Finn heard, courtesy of one demanding and worried Mercedes.

"Hello to you, too," Finn said sarcastically.

"Don't play with me, white boy," Mercedes said threateningly. "Is Kurt okay? What's wrong with him?" As soon as Mercedes mentioned Kurt's name, Rachel and Puck seemed to materialize out of thin air and gravitated over.

"Is he all right?" Rachel demanded immediately, before Finn had timed to respond to Mercedes's question. "How's his voice? Is he drinking tea with honey and lemon?" Finn didn't even register how sad it was that Rachel still thought this was a harmless illness and the worst to worry about was loss of voice. "Did you tell him I said hi?" She asked.

"Dude, this sucks," Puck added. "We just got him back from the Warblers and now he's sick."

Suddenly, from farther down, Artie chirped, "Hey, Finn! How's it going? How's Kurt?" A moment of silence ensued, in which everyone currently assembled waited for Finn to answer.

"He's… he's not too great…," Finn said, and willed himself not to burst into tears on the spot, in front of all his friends.

"_What_?" Santana asked incredulously, strutting up to the group. "Oh, hell no, I did _not_ just hear that."

"What's wrong with Kurt?" Brittany asked, coming up right behind Santana and gently resting her hand on the other girl's arm.

"You're kidding, right, Finn?" Sam asked from behind the football jock. He came around to join the circle "I mean, he's gonna be okay, right?"

"Well, that's just the thing," Finn said, his voice quivering slightly. "Nobody knows."

"What do you mean 'Nobody knows?'" Tina asked, joining the group with Mike in tow. "What are you talking about?"

"Kurt might not be okay," Artie said anxiously, filling him in. Then to Finn, he said, "But he's at the hospital, right? Aren't they treating him?"

"Well, yeah, but…," Finn started to respond.

"Finn? What's wrong?" Quinn asked worriedly, rounding off the group. Finn blinked back tears. Everyone waited anxiously, practically holding their breaths.

"Kurt… he might not… might not… make it," Finn said, swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat and trying to push the impending tears away. Nobody spoke for a long moment. Tina gasped, gripping Mike's hand tightly. Artie bit his lip to keep from tearing up. Santana gasped. Sam's and Puck's eyes widened considerably in shock. Mercedes burst into tears as soon as the news came. Brittany's mouth dropped open, and she stood stock still.

"Oh my god," she whispered, speaking for the whole group. At the same time, Will saw his kids standing in a small huddle, looking shocked, grim, and clearly upset. He went over to them.

"What's the matter, guys?" He asked worriedly, patting Mercedes's shoulder. Nobody spoke. Rachel wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Kurt might die, Mr. Schuester," she said softly, her voice cracking.

"Oh my God," Will murmured, his eyes wide. He looked directly at Finn first.

"Finn, are you okay?" He asked. Finn shrugged, still fighting back tears.

"'Course I'm okay, Mr. Schuester," he said, "but… Kurt's not." And suddenly, the big, tough football player was unable to contain his grief any longer. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and he didn't care who was watching. He was reduced to a terrified, grief-stricken, sobbing wreck. At the sight of this, the rest of the club was struck with a sense of just how grave a situation their friend was in. Mercedes hugged Finn tightly, crying right alongside him. His head rested on her comforting shoulder as he convulsed with sobs. Will was struck numb himself. He felt as though someone had told him his own son was dying, that's how close he had gotten to the students in Glee.

"What does he have?" Will asked softly, his tongue feeling leaden in his mouth as he attempted to ask.

"Pneu-Pneumonia," Finn said through heavy gasps. He tried to control his ragged breathing, for his sake as well as the rest of them.

"But pneumonia's not a fatal disease anymore, right Mr. Schue?" Artie asked anxiously, wheeling around to look his teacher in the eye and hoping for some good news. Will swallowed hard. He didn't want to destroy the group's last hope. To his somewhat relief, Finn delivered the first set of bad news.

"He had the flu first," Finn whispered. "He got pneumonia on top of that."

"It's still a very fatal disease, Artie," Will said gently. "And on top of the flu, chances of survival are very slim to none." Suddenly, it became real to them. Their friend could quite possibly die – probably _would_ die. Half the group started sobbing immediately at the news.

Of course, at the very second the entire club was feeling worried and tearful, Sue Sylvester walked down the hall and noticed the huddle of emotional teenagers and her sworn enemy. She couldn't resist the urge to torment them further.

"Aw, how sweet," Sue said sarcastically. "What, did you all finally realize your little group of losers has no talent whatsoever?"

"Sue, why can't you mind your own business every once in a while?" Will growled angrily, flaring up. Sue could be so cruel and insensitive, especially at times like this.

"Well, I try, William, believe me, I try," she said with mock sincerity. "Heaven knows I couldn't care less about your pathetic little club of misfits, but when your hair has enough product in it to single-handedly destroy the ozone layer over Lima, it becomes my business."

"Sue, just stop!" Will shouted in frustration. "We're a little upset here and would appreciate it if you kept your unhelpful and mean comments to yourself."

"Good God, William, what the hell could possibly be so upsetting?" Sue asked viciously, all false pretenses gone. "Run out of Journey songs to belt out at people who don't care?"

"If you _must_ know," Santana shot angrily, "Kurt's in the hospital."

"Porcelain's sick?" Sue asked, slightly taken aback. She drew back slightly. She had developed a soft spot in her heart for the teenager since he'd invited her to perform in the Madonna video, and then when she'd been acting as principal and that Yeti, Karofsky, was threatening him – though she'd never tell anyone such a thing. She couldn't show how protective she felt of him. That would be uncharacteristic for her, not to mention a sign of weakness, which Sue Sylvester didn't show. Ever.

"It can't be that bad," she said. "That kid is tough-"

"Pneumonia, Sue," Will spat. Sue drew back yet again, this time more obviously.

"I beg your pardon?" She asked coolly.

"He has pneumonia on top of the flu," Will said. Sue didn't realize it, but her face took on a shocked expression. At this, Will added, "It's bad." Sue bit her lip nonchalantly. She took in the tearful, puffy-eyed group of mouth-breathers she detested so fervently. After a brief scan with her eyes, she finally zeroed in on Kurt's half-brother, that monster of a teenager they called Finn. He was sniveling worst of all, and suddenly, Sue couldn't stop her heart from clenching very slightly at how hard the ordeal must've been for him. She tried to suppress her basic motherly instinct, but failed.

"He gonna live?" She asked somberly, her voice quieting to an almost gentle, motherly tone. Almost. She still possessed the sharpness of tongue that came from the bitter taste left in her mouth at being in the presence of Will Schuester for longer than 10 seconds.

"We don't know," Finn murmured, barely audible. Sue was sincerely unsure of what to say or do at this, so she simply cocked her head and blinked at Finn.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," she said as sincerely as she could manage, and turned to leave. The group silently watched her go without one more snide remark or sideways glance. Suddenly, Puck was gripped tightly by a surge of emotion. He spun around and slammed his fists against the nearest locker, making a major and highly unnecessary racket. Everyone jumped, slightly taken aback by such behavior, even from Puck. He grabbed his head and hair with both hands in frustration and sighed slowly and audibly.

"Puck?" Will asked gently.

"It's not _fair_, Mr. Schue," Puck growled through gritted teeth, still facing away from the group. He slowly turned to face them, and his eyes were wet. "It's so freaking unfair," he repeated, his voice breaking. Nobody noticed or cared. "Kurt's had the worst luck outta all of us – 'cept maybe Artie, but still…. Why does it all happen to _him_? And yeah, I know I used to torture him before, but now… now I can't believe God or the Fates or Mother Nature or whatever the hell he believes in could be so unfair."

"Puck, dude, it's gonna be okay," Sam said, patting Puck's shoulder and trying to get the bad boy to calm down, even though his reassurance sounded hollow in his own ears.

"Someone tell me why Kurt has to take all the crap, and we get to sit here perfectly fine?" Puck continued, completely ignoring Sam and shrugging off his hand.

"Puck's right," Tina said softly. "Kurt's one of the nicest guys I know, and all the bad stuff always happens to him."

"We have to stay positive, guys," Mr. Schue said finally, laying a hand on Puck's shoulder. "Kurt's a strong kid – strong enough to pull through this. We've just got to be there for him, pray for him, and stay positive. It's like the song I was teaching you yesterday. 'Always look on the bright side of life.'"

"Can we visit him, Finn?" Mercedes asked, pulling away from the football player and wiping her eyes with her hands. Finn nodded, scrubbing at his own eyes to hide the tears. He was suddenly embarrassed about crying like that.

"Yeah," he said with a soft sniffle, nodding his head. "Yeah, of course. He'd love that."

"We should sing the song for him," Rachel chirped enthusiastically, the first attempt at positivity that had been made since the news arrived.

"No," Finn and Will said at the same time.

"I don't think that's a good idea Rachel," Will said gently. Finn nodded in agreement.

"Too much excitement and action might make him worse," Finn added. "He looked really bad last night. He's having a hard time breathing, and seeing you guys might be enough to make him worse than he is. Singing to him is a bad idea right now." Rachel tried not to argue. Singing was the best medicine, she thought. It made everything better. But, Finn did probably know what was best at that point, and she figured that this wasn't the most appropriate time to argue.

"Okay," she said, feigning indifference with much difficulty.

"Can we go after school?" Mike asked.

"If the roads clear up," Will said, "that sounds like a great idea, guys. Remember, we have to stay positive, for Kurt's sake. He's probably terrified enough as it is." The Glee kids nodded. The warning bell rang then, signaling five minutes to get to homeroom.

"Meet in the choir room after school," Will said. "Now, get to class, guys." Nobody felt much like moving. None of them knew how they were going to be able to pay attention in class knowing Kurt was doing so badly, but they knew they could only pray and hope at that point.

"We have to stick together," Mercedes said firmly, wiping a final tear from her eye.

"We're a family," Sam agreed with a nod.

"Just like when Mr. Hummel was in the hospital," Rachel said, gently touching Puck's arm. Still feeling uncharacteristically emotional, he nodded to her appreciatively.

"Exactly," Finn said with a supportive nod.

"Stay optimistic," Brittany said, smiling at Artie.

"Here here," Artie agreed.

"We've gotta stay strong for our homeboy," Santana said with a smirk. Everyone started to feel a little better. They were more than a team: they knew now that they were a family. A big, sometimes dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless. They protected one another and cared deeply for one another, no matter how often they got under each others' skin. They were all in it together. This exact feeling passed almost tangibly through the group before they broke the huddle and headed silently off to their homerooms for what would prove to be the longest day in their history at McKinley High.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>**So, that's it for now! More to come - much faster than last time, I promise! I just needed a little break from the action and a segue right into chapter 15, where things go wrong. ;) Have a great night, dear friends and readers! More Kurt torture in the near future!**

**As always, reviews make me smile!**

**Thanks, Ciao, and Klaine-on!**

**~PG22**


	15. You've Got a Friend in Me

**Author's Note: Hello again, everyone! I'm sorry it took so long, but as promised, here is chapter 15, complete with Kurt AND the New Directions! Not much to say about this one but that I'm really looking forward to getting the next chapter up because I really don't particularly like this one.**

**Thank you all for your amazing reviews! You all make my day with your kind words of encouragement!**

**Gosh, I really despise this chapter... :/ I'm not at all happy how it turned out, but I hope you all like it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 15: YOU'VE GOT A FRIEND IN ME<strong>

Kurt slept for the better part of the morning. Doctors and nurses routinely walked in to check on him and give him more medicine. It was very peaceful in the room. Burt and Blaine didn't speak very much, but rather retreated inwardly, watching the news and some soap operas on TV or texting or, in Blaine's case, absentmindedly folding paper into intricate cranes. It was around 3 o'clock that things got crazy.

Kurt awakened around two, coughing his heart out. He found it hard to get back to sleep, and so stayed awake, resting. A nurse came in quietly at about 3:20 and said that Kurt had some visitors.

"Visitors?" Blaine asked, confused.

"It's probably Finn and Carole," Burt said, but he was surprised to see the New Directions standing in the doorway, led by his stepson and Mr. William Schuester.

"Kurt!" Came the collective cry from the students, who all rushed in in a horde, crowding around his bed. Blaine and Burt stepped to the side to allow the kids more room. Kurt's initial shock faded, and the smile that replaced it was a mile wide. Mercedes was, of course, first to close in on Kurt and enfold him in a big, warm, loving bear hug. She was crying too hard to speak, but instead touched his hand supportively. Then, in a line that looked almost rehearsed, each student came to show their love and support to Kurt. Meanwhile, Mr. Schue went to shake hands with Burt.

"Hi Blaine!" Several of the Glee kids said. "Hi, Mr. Hummel."

"Hey guys," Blaine said back.

"Hi, kids," Burt said, shaking hands with Mr. Schue.

"What's all this?" He asked curiously.

"The kids were worried about Kurt," Will said with a small smile. "This was all their idea."

"How're you doing, Kurt?" Rachel asked gently.

"Not so good," Kurt croaked hoarsely. "What are you all doing here?"

"What, did you think we were going to let you suffer here alone?" Puck asked, clapping the smaller boy on the back.

"Yeah, man, we were worried about you," Sam said earnestly, giving him a half-hug slightly awkwardly. Kurt smiled.

"There's not much to be worried about," he said softly.

"Don't even lie to me, powderpuff," Santana said with a worried look. "I may not be a genius, but anyone with eyes can see that you're in bad shape." Kurt smiled weakly.

"It's nice to see you too, Santana," he said honestly with a soft chuckle. Tina came around and gave him a big hug. Mike patted his shoulder.

"You gave us quite the scare, man," Mike said. "You don't look so good either."

"I don't really feel that good," Kurt confided, receiving a hug and small peck on the cheek from Brittany.

"Lord Tubbington says hello, too," Brittany said softly. Everyone smiled.

Artie wheeled up to the bed and patted Kurt's knee kindly, not saying anything.

Quinn gave him a big hug and whispered, "I'm sorry." Kurt didn't know what for, but he nodded and thanked her anyway. Mr. Schue came up then and hugged Kurt tightly.

"We were so worried about you," he said.

"I miss everyone," Kurt answered hoarsely. "But I don't want you all to have to worry. I'm fine."

"Kurt, you don't have to downplay it," Finn said gently. Everyone nodded their agreement. "You're not fine." Kurt sighed.

"Nah, I'm really not," he said finally, sighing softly. "I really feel horrible."

"We wanted to sing something to try and cheer you up," Rachel cut in, "but everyone thought that would be a bad idea." She shrugged, taking in the sickly-looking teenager in bed with a look of pure sympathy. "I kind of see now that they were right." Kurt smiled.

"While a song would have been lovely," he said, "I'm glad they talked you out of it. I'm already exhausted from all this excitement."

"Woah, do we need to leave?" Puck asked anxiously, on edge. "Because I have no problem kicking everyone's ass out if you need us to go so you can rest."

"No, Puck," Kurt said, grinning, shaking his head. "That's not necessary. You guys can stay for a while. I'm actually glad you're here. But thanks." Puck nodded, relaxing about an inch.

"We're glad we're here too," Artie chirped enthusiastically.

"School royally sucked without you," Puck said with a nod of agreement in Artie's direction.

"But you did get Coach Sylvester to shut up," Sam said. "She wouldn't stop harassing us until she knew it was you who was sick." Kurt looked around incredulously.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah," Sam said, eliciting supporting nods from the rest of the club.

"I feel pretty special now," he joked. The group smiled collectively. Some even laughed.

"Are you hurting, boo?" Mercedes asked, concerned. She gently touched Kurt's hand. Homosexuality or not, the boy would always be her first real crush.

"More than you can imagine," he said. "But with the medicine it isn't so bad." He noticed the worried looks he received and quickly added, "It could be worse. I'm okay."

"Your voice," Rachel commented fretfully, biting her lip.

"Relax," Kurt said with a laid-back smile. "It'll come back when I stop coughing and ripping up my throat."

It was hard to act normal with a giant elephant in the room that could be easily felt in the tension of all the Glee kids. Nobody wanted to bring it up and risk upsetting Kurt, and Kurt didn't know if he should tell them or not and risk upsetting them. Nobody spoke for a long moment. Finally, Blaine broke the silence.

"So, how was everyone's day?" He asked brightly, feeling how tense the room was.

"Good," Artie said immediately.

"Long," Mercedes moaned.

"Stressful," Finn said sheepishly.

"Boring," Sam said.

"Tough," Mercedes said.

"Okay," Tina said.

"Fine," Mike said.

"What do you think?" Santana spat, still eyeing Kurt worriedly.

"Alright," Brittany responded.

"Never-ending," Quinn groaned.

"Stupid," Puck commented. Blaine chuckled.

"Sounds like a crazy one," he commented with a nod. "Which song are you working on?" Everyone could tell and appreciated that Blaine was trying to lighten the mood. The adults were talking, and the kids were just staring at their friend, each one's mind a million miles away. Some, like Mercedes, Finn, Artie, and Quinn were imagining life without him, life without his beautiful voice, dry humor, or wonderful presence. They couldn't imagine how life would be after all that was taken from them so viciously. Others, like Mike, who had connections to doctors, or Tina whose parents watched medical dramas, or Blaine, were worried about how much Kurt was going to have to suffer before he died. All the pain, all the treatments, the eventual ventilator… it hurt them to think about. Still others who did not have such connections or couldn't think but long-term at the moment were imagining how tough the funeral was going to be for everyone. A few optimists in the group, namely Rachel, Brittany, and Sam, were envisioning their tough friend pulling through this illness and living to sing another day, share some more fun memories, come back to school, and enjoy his life.

Suddenly, it hit Kurt hard. The way they were looking at him, how distracted, angsty, or sad some of them looked, the tears, the uncomfortable, awkward silence that had settled within the circle. He swallowed hard and lowered his voice.

"How did you guys find out?" He asked softly, feeling the tears beginning to gather on his lower lids. At first, nobody spoke, only broke out crying and looked around uncomfortably. Finally, Artie spoke up.

"Finn told us," he said softly. "B-But only after we pestered him about it. I'm pretty sure he wasn't going to say." He looked up at Finn for confirmation.

"They need to know the truth, dude," Finn said honestly. Kurt looked at him a long moment before reaching out to hug the football player tightly. No words were exchanged. No words were necessary. Kurt was grateful his brother had broken the news so he didn't have to, and thankful it had come from Finn's mouth and no one else's. Finn's grip on the frail, thin teenager tightened, and he inhaled sharply as another onslaught of tears began leaking from his eyes. Everyone closed in in a group hug, trying to hide their tears, and trying to support one another.

This lasted for a few seconds before Kurt began to cough uncontrollably. The Glee kids all pulled away, wiping their eyes discreetly. Mercedes, who was closest to both the bed and the table, picked up the Styrofoam cup and offered Kurt some water. He took it and sipped at it gratefully.

"Thanks, Mercedes," he said weakly, letting another low, weak, rumbling cough escape him.

"Man, that sounds awful," Sam commented.

"Does it hurt, Kurt?" Artie asked softly. Kurt nodded.

"A lot," he affirmed with a small shiver.

"Are you sure you're up to talking?" Mercedes asked nervously. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sure. I've wanted to talk to you guys since last practice." And so that's how the New Directions came to sit in every free space of the room and talk to their dear friend and family member until about five. By that time, Kurt was starting to have trouble breathing, and he was clutching his chest in pain.

"Kurt?" Burt asked, concerned. "Does your chest hurt?"

"A l-little," Kurt gasped, short of breath all of a sudden.

"Alright, guys, I think that's our cue to get going," Will said quietly, looking anxiously at Kurt. There was a general murmur of discontent among the group, but nobody really legitimately protested, noticing how bad Kurt looked all of a sudden. They each stood up and came by the bed to give Kurt a hug and say goodbye before Will herded them out.

"It was good to… see you guys," Kurt croaked weakly, taking a pause to catch his breath between words. "Thanks for… coming."

"Feel better, Kurt," Mercedes whispered softly.

"We'll come back soon," Will said.

"Get some rest," Mike advised.

"Hang in there," Rachel said quietly.

"We're praying for you," Sam added with a nod.

"See you later," Puck finished up for them.

"Bye," Blaine called. "It was great to see you all again." The kids waved to Blaine and Finn. Burt and Will shook hands and then the New Directions vacated the hospital room.

Once everyone had left, Blaine rushed to Kurt's side, where Burt was already rubbing his back, having him sit up, and urging him to drink some water.

"Blaine, please call the doctor," Burt said nervously. "This doesn't sound good." Then to Kurt he said, "Just hang in there, son. It's going to be okay."

Blaine, frazzled, pressed the call button. Moments later, Dr. Monroe entered the room.

"That was quite a crowd," he commented with a small smile. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"He's complaining of severe chest pain," Blaine said anxiously. Burt nodded his agreement, encouraging Kurt to just breathe. Dr. Monroe nodded.

"That's normal," he said. "Especially in severe cases such as this. I'm prescribing a little more pain medicine, but it might just have been the excitement as well. Also, I'm going to get a humidifier in here so it can loosen up some of the gunk that's clogging up his lungs, alright?" He scribbled something down. "One of our nurses will be right in. Just hold on, Kurt," he said kindly and headed out to go grab a nurse.

This time it was a different woman who came in and added some more medication to Kurt's IV bag. She then brought in the humidifier and hooked it up with ease and dexterity. Soon, the air in the room was tropical and moist, and it began to do its job almost instantly. Kurt coughed and coughed and coughed until he produced more rust-colored sputum. He looked completely drained.

"Thank you," Burt said to the woman, who nodded, smiled, and left the room. Then, he refocused his attentions on Kurt.

"Go to sleep bud," he said, seeing his son was fading fast. "We'll wake you if we need you, but you've had enough excitement for one day. Just rest, okay?" Kurt nodded and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly. Finn sat down hard, feeling dizzy. His heart was slowing down again gradually after the escapade. Blaine stroked his boyfriend's hand lightly, nervous.

Kurt looked extremely pale and wan. He was now at a level of vulnerability never previously seen in him. Blaine couldn't remember a time when Kurt didn't act like his confident, fabulous self. It was something he admired about his boyfriend. He was always so sure-footed and strong, but now…. Blaine ran his fingers through his own hair, sick with worry. Burt put a strong hand on the teenager's shoulders.

"He's going to be okay, don't you worry," Burt promised. Blaine nodded.

"Was it a bad idea that I brought them here, Burt?" Finn asked guiltily. Burt thought about it for a second, then shook his head with a sigh, sitting down heavily.

"No, Finn," he said. "It was a damn good idea, actually. Did you see how happy it made him? You made him feel a whole lot better today, and I'm proud of you." Finn nodded, his eyes glistening.

"Thanks," he said. Suddenly, Carole walked in.

"Hello, boys," she said softly, creeping in and kissing her son on the forehead, her stepson on the sweaty cheek, and her husband on the lips. She gave Blaine a hug.

"How is he?" She asked worriedly, going over to examine her stepson.

"He was fine until about five," Burt reported. "His friends came."

"Did they?" Carole asked with a small smile. "Good idea, Finny," she commended. "I'm sure that made him feel much better." Finn nodded.

"But then I felt bad because the excitement caused him to cough and have chest pain," Finn said shamefully, feeling guilty.

"It's okay, Finn," Blaine said softly, trying to make up for the day before. "That wasn't your fault. It would have happened anyway with his illness." Finn appreciated the reassurance and nodded thankfully at Blaine, but he still felt responsible for Kurt's coughing fit and chest pain.

Carole gently stroked Kurt's forehead while casually tossing over her shoulder, "The roads are an absolute mess. Curse these late-season frosts." She kissed Kurt's warm forehead again before going over to sit beside her husband.

"I'm glad you got here okay," Burt said. "I can't imagine what I would do if anything had happened to you out there." Carole shoved him playfully.

"I can take care of myself, Burt," she laughed. "I'm not that crazy a driver." Burt chuckled. Finn rolled his eyes. Suddenly, his stomach growled loudly.

"I think it's dinner time," Carole teased, trying to use humor to try and lift everyone's low spirits. The men were thankful. They needed the reprieve.

Nobody turned on the news. Nobody could have known how bad the outdoor situation really was about to get. The weatherman was currently predicting icy conditions for the roads tomorrow, and snow for Saturday evening.

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><p><strong>AN: So, there it is! Hope you liked well enough, and still hope everyone was in character! Sorry about the cliffy! More to come very soon!<strong>

**Peace, Love, Klainebows!**

**~PG22**


	16. Angel

**Author's Note: Wow, it feels like forever since I last updated! I'm so sorry guys. I've wanted to update for a while now, much sooner than this, but you know how life is; it's like determined to keep you busy and moving. There's nothing wrong with that except that you guys don't get the next update until a Monday night. This is a short little thing that's going to segue right into the next few climactic parts. Enjoy the wild ride you are about to embark on!**

**I always have to say this: the reviews I've gotten have been positively wonderful. I'm so inspired by all of you, and I appreciate when you take the time to tell me what you like about what I'm doing or make suggestions. I also must say that many of your reviews have made my day, so thank you all.**

**The next update will (hopefully) come a lot sooner. I've been nonstop on the move, constantly busy, but I have most of the next part written, so I hope to get that one out pretty soon!**

**Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. Neither do the songs I use as chapter titles or throughout the story.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 16: ANGEL<strong>

Kurt barely slept at all that night. He was so uncomfortably hot and cold at the same time, and his body was positively slicked with sweat. He shivered from beneath the blankets uncontrollably, and his face was contorted in unspeakable agony. He tossed and turned, miserable when awake or half-awake, plagued by night terrors when he was asleep. All night, he was vaguely aware of someone with something cool and wet sitting vigilantly up next to him, gently and tenderly mopping down his sticky, hot forehead. He shivered even harder each time it was carefully swabbed over his skin.

Blaine was worried. He had awakened in the middle of the night to Kurt whimpering in his sleep, quite obviously caught in the throes of yet another nightmare. He was hot, very unnaturally and dangerously hot, and there was still medication and fluid dripping into his veins, meaning there was nothing much more that could be done save an ice bath, and no way was Blaine about to watch them put his boyfriend through that torture. So, he did the only thing he knew to do – he got a washcloth wet with some cold water and kept vigil at his boyfriend's bedside, trying to soothe his fever and comfort him. At first, Kurt jumped and awakened.

"B-Blaine?" He asked groggily.

"Shh," Blaine said, passing the cloth over Kurt's forehead. "Go back to sleep. I'm here now."

"C-Can't," he murmured, his eyes glassy and distant. "Hot."

"Shh," Blaine soothed. "It's okay. Just relax." In less than a minute, Kurt was asleep again with absolutely no recollection that this event took place. He continued to wake up out of discomfort or nightmares, and found it increasingly difficult to separate his dreams from reality. He entered an intense state of delirium. Blaine noticed, as Kurt continued to murmur to himself and reach out for things that weren't there. Blaine worriedly continued to try and lower Kurt's temperature and offer him some relief, however briefly. He worked tirelessly and quietly, so as not to wake or alarm Burt.

Kurt was in agony. Every move he made was torture, yet he was so uncomfortable, he had to move. And then the nightmares, hot, feverish, hazy things that made horror movies look tame. These visions played with his agonized mind, taking all his worst fears from the deepest, darkest parts of his head and putting them together in a movie that would've put Hitchcock out of a job. And then, one messed with him too horribly.

Suddenly, Kurt awakened in a blind panic, kicking and thrashing about wildly for half a second before slumping back and out-and-out sobbing. Blaine was so surprised that he jumped, nearly falling off the chair and dropping the washcloth. He made a smooth recovery, however, and peered over at his boyfriend in alarm.

"Kurt?" He asked ever so gently. "Kurt, baby, are you okay?" Kurt didn't respond. Blaine noticed then that he was still in his half-awake state, and he was probably still unaware of reality. Gently, Blaine shook Kurt's shoulder, softly calling his name.

"Kurt? Kurt?" He called over and over. "It's okay, baby. It's all going to be okay." Finally and to his great relief, Kurt awakened, his glassy, watery eyes scanning the room anxiously for any signs of attack or danger. When he detected one, his eyes fell shut again as he cried.

"Babe, hey," Blaine said calmly, taking Kurt's face into his firm but gentle hands. "Hey. What's wrong?" Kurt simply sobbed in response, hugging Blaine tightly and burying his tearstained, warm face into his shoulder. Blaine's alarm caused a delayed reaction, but he found himself hugging the other boy back and rubbing soothing circles into his back while he sobbed, unbidden, into Blaine's jacket.

"Shh," Blaine urged. "It's okay."

"I th-thought I l-lost you," Kurt stuttered through shaky cries.

"Hey," Blaine said gently. "You won't lose me. I promise. I'm right here, and I'm never leaving you. Hey, it's okay, Kurt. Relax. It was just a nightmare."

"S-so real," he said with a soft shudder. Another soft sob escaped him, and he held onto Blaine tighter. Blaine just kept on rubbing his back and trying to relax him. Some hospital personnel were perusing the corridors, but if they noticed anything strange taking place in the room, none showed it. Each one just walked on by, casting eerie shadows about the hospital room.

"Shh," Blaine tried again, worried Kurt would stop breathing with all his sobbing. "Calm down. I'm here. It's okay. Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt distinctly shook his head into Blaine's shoulder. Blaine shot Burt a worried look. Kurt's dad was still fast asleep on the sofa. Blaine thought about waking him and letting him know that Kurt was not okay, but something stopped him. He very calmly took Kurt by the hand and helped ease him back into a lying position. Kurt's breathing was ragged and irregular, and his eyes were still leaking terrified tears. Blaine picked up the rag and pressed it lovingly to Kurt's cheek to try and cool him down.

"See?" He asked. "Everything is fine. Try and go back to sleep." Kurt nodded listlessly but made no effort or motion to close his eyes. He sat there in the darkness watching his boyfriend tenderly wipe him down with a wet cloth. He stared up dully into Blaine's eyes, and it scared the Warbler. He had never seen his boyfriend's eyes so dull, so lifeless. It was like the soul, spirit, and spunk Blaine had fallen for had all been drained out of him. Blaine gently stroked Kurt's cheek, suddenly in need of reassurance.

"Kurt?" He asked. "Speak to me, baby. Are you okay?" He bit his lip nervously. Kurt nodded.

"The…the sharp pain went away," he murmured dully, tears still escaping him. "It's all just… just numb right now. And surprisingly sore." He coughed weakly and sighed, his breath catching.

"Well, that's got to be a little bit better," Blaine said, attempting to be cheerful. Kurt simply felt like the rain cloud, draining his boyfriend of all sunshine and happiness. He felt sorry for it. He didn't want to cause Blaine so much hurt. He loved Blaine. Blaine was the last person in the world he wanted to cause pain to. And he kept hurting those he loved time and time again.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled meekly into the darkness. His red-rimmed eyes stared deeply into Blaine's soul.

"What for?" Blaine asked, making another pass over Kurt's forehead with the cloth.

"F-For causing you… s-so much p-pain," Kurt said, suddenly cold and emotional at the same time. The result was devastating – chattering teeth, leaky eyes, ragged breath, and an all-around miserable feeling.

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine said, and suddenly, all he'd been working so hard to contain, all the hard work he'd put into staying strong for Kurt's sake, all of that went out the window in a single second when Kurt had said these words. He felt the tears leak out his eyes. "It's not your fault," Blaine said, because in his heart he knew that Kurt would never accept his denial that he was hurting – he was. Immensely. And he was a terrible liar. The truth seemed like the better option. "It's this stupid disease." He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, looking heavenward with an ironic, pleading, and incredibly hurt look on his face.

"God, Kurt, why does this always have to happen to _you_?" He asked. "I'm just as susceptible as you are." He started to cry, and closed his eyes tightly, trying to stop it.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked softly after a pause, sniffling quietly.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Blaine said with a sniffle of his own, opening his eyes, blinking away the tears, and gently swabbing Kurt's forehead again. "What is it?"

"Where do you think I'll go?" Kurt asked. Blaine was confused for a split second until he realized what Kurt meant. He was talking about after he passed on. This caused a fresh batch of tears to crop up in Blaine's eyes. He tried to cover it up by flipping the cloth to the cooler side and pressing it down carefully on Kurt's forehead.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked thickly. "You'll go on. Heaven I suppose."

"Even without religion?" Kurt asked softly.

"Even without religion," Blaine answered, trying to keep his voice level and calm when he was feeling anything but.

"I'm afraid… I won't get there," Kurt murmured. "That I'll just… end."

"Don't be silly," Blaine said lovingly, planting a small kiss on Kurt's forehead. "You'll go on to be… an angel." Kurt couldn't help but smile a little at this notion.

"I would make a pretty good angel, wouldn't I?" Kurt asked faintly. Blaine's breath hitched.

"Yes, Kurt," he said, his voice quivering and cracking. "You'd make the best angel." Suddenly, as if a silent message had suddenly been passed between him, both boys moved in on each other, and each gathered the other in a crushing hug. They were both crying. Blaine's dam broke then, and he cried unabashedly in Kurt's shoulder; the other boy did the same. They stayed like that a long time, so long in fact, that Kurt actually fell asleep on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine had meant to tell him one last thing before he had fallen asleep, but he was glad the sick boy was getting his rest. He gently laid Kurt's head back on the pillow and tucked the blankets up high under his chin. He set the wet washcloth back on Kurt's feverish forehead.

"But you don't need to worry about any of that," Blaine said. "Because I've got you, and you've got me. You're strong enough to beat this. I'll hold you and I won't let you go. This disease is nothing. And you're going to pull through this, my angel." He kissed Kurt's forehead tenderly, and went back to lowering his fever until it was very early morning and Kurt was no longer plagued by nightmares. Then and only then did he go back and lie down on his cot, wondering what the morning would bring, and praying to God that Kurt would live to see another spring break.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: So how many of you were crying? Don't worry. I was too. You'll understand why I put you through this very soon, I promise. For now, hope you all have a good night, and see you very soon!<strong>

**Ciao,**

**~PG22**


	17. Happy Ending

**Author's Note: Hello hello! I know I just began a new project, but that of course does not mean that I'm going to neglect this story! I'm having a hard time figuring out where I'm going from the next few chapters, so hiatuses might be a little long - I apologize in advance. I'm just going to let this write itself I suppose. **

**I'm sorry for how bad chapter 16 was - I feel like that accurately explains what's going to happen though, so hopefully I didn't bum you out too much.**

**Thanks for all your reviews. Please do try to remember however that there is not sarcasm font, therefore, I do not know if you're joking or not in comments, and death threats, while sometimes jokes, are not funny. Ever. I don't really want to be destroyed or killed for writing a story. That seems a bit too harsh, and I don't appreciate it. Please, if you can't express your emotions politely, don't express at all. And to those of you who have consistently written feedback that was polite and kind, good or bad, I appreciate your respectfulness and thank you very much. Sorry you have to read this.**

**Anyway, back to the action!**

**Disclaimer: No matter how much I want to, I do not own Glee. (It's probably a good thing, since I think there'd be riots if I did...)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 17: HAPPY ENDING<strong>

The next two days dragged on endlessly, and ended up hazy in everyone's mind. Each day was the same, doctors and nurses coming in and analyzing Kurt, the Hudson-Hummels sitting by Kurt's bedside, taking turns talking to him and trying to comfort him. Kurt mostly slept. When he was awake, he could barely move or speak. He sweated profusely and shivered convulsively. The pain in his chest exploded and flared with every intake of breath. Blaine would sit by the bed and hold the straw to Kurt's lips so he could drink some water while Carole stroked his sweaty hair back gently and murmured lovingly to her son.

Blaine remembered going home to shower, grab a few things, and change at one point, but the last few days and nights meshed together and he wasn't exactly sure of what day it actually was. All he knew was he had hurried home and back. At this point, any second could be his boyfriend's last. He remembered his parents had not been too pleased with him, but he couldn't care less. Kurt needed him. He had gone down to the gift shop at one point during the last few days and picked up a book of crossword puzzles and a pad of paper, both of which he used to entertain himself. Sometimes, he would have Kurt's motionless hands hold the paper and he would guide them in folding it into a crane shape with him, just so he could say he and Kurt had finished crafting the thousand together.

Blaine's life was upside-down. He couldn't believe how awful Kurt had gotten, couldn't believe the disease had taken its toll on him so quickly. Kurt was relatively healthy, but thanks to one harmful flu, everything was going wrong. Kurt's breathing was labored and ragged, and each time it caught in his chest, Blaine would gasp and cringe and not be able to let out his own breath until Kurt began breathing again, however irregularly. In the silence during the day, when the Hudson-Hummels were talking or trying to be cheerful, Blaine was left alone with his thoughts and his fears about what was happening to his quickly-deteriorating boyfriend.

Blaine's phone was blowing up with voicemails and texts from excited and carefree Warblers and Dalton students all wanting to hang out with him over spring break. He wished he could be like them, caring about the superfluous and insignificant. He didn't have the heart to tell them no, nor the strength to explain what was really going on, so he did the only thing he could – he didn't respond. He figured if he ignored them, they'd have no recourse but to leave him alone as he tried futilely to keep his boyfriend in this world and keep his thoughts from getting the better of him. He felt marginally bad for leaving his friends in the dark, but it would be too complicated to try and explain things. Sure, Kurt had briefly become one of them and they cared deeply for him, but they didn't understand the deep connection he and Blaine shared, or why Blaine would not physically be able to leave his boyfriend's side until the very untimely end.

Finn himself was immensely glad he did not have to go to school anymore. He would never have been able to concentrate, not with Kurt so sick. He'd sit by the bed when he wasn't making coffee or food runs for his family and just hold Kurt's pale, weak hand as he slept. His eyes constantly landed on Blaine, and then would quickly dart away before the Warbler could notice. He was worried that Blaine blamed him for what happened to Kurt. The bond between the Warbler and Finn's step brother had gotten even tighter recently, and Finn was happy for Kurt. He now couldn't imagine one without the other. It would be strange, like a football field without its yard lines, or a harmony without the lower part. His heart went out to Blaine, however silently. However, this whole ordeal was taking more out of him than he was willing to disclose to anyone. He knew Blaine must be feeling equally as poorly, but it wasn't quite the same. Kurt and Finn were brothers, no matter how distantly. Losing your sibling and good friend was just as hard as losing your other half, Finn thought.

In addition to what the two boys were feeling, Burt and Carole were terrified for their son's life. They could see Kurt was not getting better and it was worrying them greatly. The doctors seemed to be doing everything in their power, but it didn't seem like enough. Carole found herself many an hour by the bedside singing songs to her step son, lullabies and soothing melodies that came straight from her heart. She gently caressed his face or stroked his hair, trying to comfort him. Even if she hadn't given birth to him, Kurt had become her son, and she loved him just as much as she loved Finn. Burt on the other hand often found himself during the next couple of days acting removed from everyone, including his boy. He was beside himself with grief. If he were to lose his only son, so soon after losing his wife, he knew it would destroy him. Even though he had Finn and Carole now, the hole Kurt would leave in his life would be too immense to be filled.

And then there was Kurt himself, who could not seem to do much but sleep. When he was not asleep, he was constantly coughing up blood, and in severe pain. He kept crying out in delirium for someone to release him, which continuously caused heartache for everyone assembled. It was because of these two things that Dr. Monroe suggested sedating Kurt for the pain and to help him rest so his lungs could recover.

"You want to sedate him?" Carole had asked, appalled.

"Yes," Dr. Monroe said. "He's in severe pain, especially when breathing. Soon, it will become too difficult for him to even sleep. He needs to be put under so he's not hurting and so he's resting."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Burt asked worriedly. "I mean, what if he doesn't come out of it?"

"He should," Dr. Monroe said. "There's nothing indicating that he wouldn't. Ultimately, it's the best thing for him now. But it is up to you." Burt and Carole talked it over long and hard and had finally decided that if this is what it took for Kurt to be better, then they would do it.

"Okay," Carole agreed. "Yes. Do whatever you have to do to make him well again." The doctor had nodded and left. A nurse promptly entered and added the sedative to Kurt's IV.

Once in a sedated state, Kurt found himself suspended in a limbo somewhere between awake and asleep. It was dark, quiet, and both cold and hot at the same time. He was still in severe pain, but could not move or escape it. He had to endure in silence. On the outside, he appeared to be sleeping. He couldn't hear anything taking place in the outside world. He could only hear his own internal screaming and the ragged, choppy sound of his own labored breathing.

Meanwhile, Dr. Monroe came back to discuss options with the Hudson-Hummels.

"It doesn't appear that Kurt has been responding to much of the treatment," he said, eyeing his chart warily. "In fact, it looks like the antibiotic has done about as much good as saltwater would have. He's quickly deteriorating."

"Is there anything else that can be done for him?" Carole asked nervously, a pleading look in her eyes. Dr. Monroe lowered his eyes as he delivered his prognosis.

"I don't believe there is," he said softly. Carole's eyes began to leak, and Finn gripped Kurt's cold hand tighter. Blaine buried his face in his hands immediately in disbelief, and even Burt began to cry. "We can put him on a ventilator, but that wouldn't do much good," Dr. Monroe continued. "It would hurt, and though it would keep him alive artificially, it would only prolong the inevitable. I'm afraid it will take a miracle for his body to fight through this. I'm very sorry."

"H-How long does he have?" Finn asked bravely, voicing the question no one else wanted to ask.

"From what I've seen, I'd say a few days at the most," Dr. Monroe murmured apologetically. Carole gasped and buried her face in her husband's shoulder. Everyone else had just gone completely numb. "But that's not set in stone," Dr. Monroe continued, trying to make the distraught family feel a little better. "There's still the chance his body will pull through. It's slim but not completely impossible."

"Thank you, doctor," Burt said stiffly. Dr. Monroe nodded, understanding that the family was going to need time. This was not an easy thing to accept, the possible passing of one's child. He quietly left the room. Carole burst into sobs on the spot, and Burt's eyes became moist and leaky as well. Finn stared at his hands, motionless. All emotion had been drained out of him. He became a void, his soul, heart, and mind all completely empty. He had been keeping up with the New Directions through text messages, but he couldn't feel his hands enough to make them move to text. He couldn't cry or feel anything. Blaine went a step further; he actually had to get up and leave the room. He wandered blindly with no set destination and found himself in the hospital ward's public bathroom down the hall from the room. Thankfully, it was a single-person restroom, and so he was able to go in, lock the door, and not worry about anybody else. Suddenly, his knees gave out and he slid to the cold blue tile floor, his face buried in his hands. He couldn't keep it together anymore, and so he began convulsing with sobs.

He couldn't believe it. He refused to accept that his baby, his Kurt, would not make it out alive. He wished he had thought to count the cranes in his bedroom when he was there last, for no force on earth was going to possess him to leave Kurt's side now, until the end. He knew he had to be close to his thousand now, especially with all Kurt's help, so without even bothering to look, he looked up toward the sky and humbly begged and begged for Kurt to be well again. He wished harder than he had ever wished for anything. And then he just sat there, sobbing hard, pleading with God or any invisible force that was listening to somehow be moved with compassion, have mercy, and have Kurt pull out of this.

It was a long time before he was composed again and ready to reenter the bedroom. He came back just in time to witness Finn lose it. The teenager had been unnaturally quiet and numb since the news came, but when Blaine entered, it seemed to jolt him to life, and he dropped Kurt's hand in fear, jumping up from the chair (nearly knocking it over) and backing away quickly until he came to a wall to hinder his progress. He grabbed his hair by the fistful and looked at his mom with wild, terrified eyes.

"Mom," he choked out, tears streaming in small rivers down his cheeks and dripping off his chin to the clean, hardwood floor. "Mom, I c-can't be here anymore." Carole disentangled herself from Burt gently and rushed over to her son.

"Oh, Finny," she said, stroking his hair and quickly leading him out of the room and into the waiting room as he broke down and sobbed into her shoulder.

When they were safely outside the room, Carole sat him down on a waiting room chair and knelt down in front of him.

"Finn, I know, this is hard and it sucks," she said softly, tears pouring from her own eyes. "You don't have to stay anymore, okay? You can go on home. He'll live long enough for you to come back and… say goodbye." Carole's voice broke and she closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. "I know it's hard. Why don't you take that nice girl Quinn out tonight, okay? Try and get your mind off it?" Finn nodded, unable to catch his breath from crying so hard. He buried his face in his mom's shoulder and hugged her tightly.

"He c-can't die," Finn moaned softly. "He c-c-can't!"

"Shh," Carole soothed. "And he might not. There's still time, Finn. Don't forget that. He's strong. It's going to turn one way or the other in the next day or two. We just have to be strong and pray for a miracle." Finn nodded, as he was too speechless to do much else.

"Oh, sweetie," Carole said. "It's going to be alright. Everything happens for a reason. Go call Quinn, and go have some fun. There's no reason for you to be stuck in there with all these emotions."

"I won't have a g-good time," Finn said softly, starting to get a grip. "Not when I know Kurt's here d-dying!"

"Shh," Carole said, trying to comfort her son. "Ask Quinn to just take your mind off it. Or any of your friends. They will. That's what friends are for. Relax, Finn. Your brother… he can still pull through this."

"Okay," Finn said quietly, nodding. He was still unconvinced, but turning to Quinn or another friend at a time like this seemed like a good idea. "I'll… go call her."

"Okay, sweetie," Carole said, stroking Finn's hair gently. "It's going to be alright." Finn stood.

"Thanks," he said flatly and went to make his call away from other people in case he happened to break down again.

Carole reentered the room to find Burt at the bedside speaking softly to his son words which her ears couldn't hear. She did not disturb him, for he looked more crushed than a man who'd gone through as much as he had ever should.

"Where's Finn?" Blaine asked halfheartedly, jolting Carole to attention. He honestly did not care, but he also was not willing to say so. Not to mention he needed something else to think about.

"I sent him off to call a friend," Carole said gently. "You should too, Blaine. There's no reason for you boys to stay cooped up in here all alone with your thoughts. Kurt's going to be okay."

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson," Blaine said softly and earnestly. "But I'm going to stay. I couldn't… I mean, if something happened and I wasn't…. No, I could never forgive myself for that." Carole shrugged.

"Alright Blaine," she said gently. "But you have the option to if it gets too hard for you." Blaine nodded, knowing for certain it wouldn't matter; he would not leave his boyfriend's side, until the end.

It was only a few minutes before Finn entered the room again.

"C-Can I borrow the car?" He asked awkwardly, looking at Kurt and getting a pang in his heart that made him feel horrible for leaving, but also feeling like he could not remain there and also stay sane. Kurt would tell him he was being ridiculous for feeling like he had to stay, he knew, but he still couldn't help feeling like a bad brother. However, seeing his brother like that was messing with his mind a little too much.

"Of course, sweetie," Carole said gently, handing her son the car keys. "Go, and have fun." Blaine tried not to glare at Finn as he took the keys from his mom and went to the door to leave. It wasn't Finn's fault he couldn't handle it, after all.

"Call me if anything changes," Finn said, his eyes pleading. "I want to be here for him, but I need a break."

"Sure, Finny," Carole said. "No problem. We will. Tell Quinn we all say hello."

"Alright," Finn said with a slight nod and left. He couldn't bear to see his brother this way anymore. He owed Quinn a night out anyway. She had been reluctant to accept, worried about Finn leaving Kurt, but he'd convinced her. She knew she'd have to be the comforting girlfriend, and she was ready to put on that role for him.

As Finn was driving, he was struck by just how bad the roads had gotten. It was sleeting outside now, and the roads were all slick and icy. The radio was on the rock station, and he didn't have the energy to change the dial. Had he, he would have heard the news alerting drivers to stay off the roads as much as possible and stay inside if they could. The roads weren't just slick; they were almost completely iced over in certain places.

After a little while, activity and emotion died down a little bit for the Hudson-Hummels and Blaine. It just so happened that the family had just settled down and Finn had just picked Quinn up when disaster struck.

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, another cliffhanger. I'm sorry! I needed the time to break this into chunks, so... Anyway, I hope you liked. As always, your thoughts are greatly appreciated. Next chapter will be up very very soon - sooner than usual, as I have no classes right now and have the time to devote to writing. I do hope you all are enjoying this. It is my greatest pleasure to bring you my words, so I hope I'm doing well. **

**Ciao for now!**

**~PG22**


	18. There Are No Words

**Author's Note: So yes, this is a whole lot quicker than I had imagined, but I feel like I need to put this one up because I won't have any time this next week to update again. With that in mind, I apologize in advance for any severe heartache this might cause. I have no control over my schedule, so next update could be in a week or two. **

**The reviews for last chapter were overwhelming, so thanks everyone. I'm sorry if this is killing you. It's killing me too, but this story has been in my mind forever, and it's finally coming together nicely. Thanks for all your compliments, and sorry for making you cry!**

**Also, for the record, the title refers to the weather in Lima during the story. It will all make sense very soon, I promise.**

**And if you haven't noticed, most of the chapters refer to songs.**

**Fair warning: This chapter is by far the worst in the story. Not writing wise, just... it's hard to read. It was hard for me to write, but yeah. What can I say? It really wrote itself through my hands. I apologize in advance for what this might do.**

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. (Thankfully)**

**Enjoy(?)**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 18: THERE ARE NO WORDS<strong>

Kurt woke up from his stupor still in an ungodly amount of pain. He closed his red-rimmed eyes and whimpered softly. Everyone was at attention immediately. Kurt's eyes searched the room frantically.

"F-Finn?" He asked, noticing his absent step brother.

"He's gone home for a little bit," Blaine lied smoothly, taking Kurt's hand. "He'll be back in a little bit." Kurt nodded.

"How do you feel, kiddo?" Burt asked.

"It hurts all over," Kurt moaned pitifully, squeezing Blaine's hand. "And I'm… tired." He looked exhausted, but not like someone dying. Blaine had the gall to hope for just a second. But like everything else in his cruel world, the hope was ripped away in one second.

"B-Blaine!" Kurt said, panicking. He had gone to take a breath and no air had gone in. He tried again and again, clutching his throat, but it didn't help. Blaine didn't notice right away.

Kurt stopped breathing. No one noticed at first until a machine he was attached to began beeping loudly to indicate that there was no oxygen flowing to his brain. Blaine was the first to look at it and understand what was happening before a whole slew of nurses and doctors rushed in. Everything that next happened was a complete blur. Blaine could barely see through the mass of humanity gathered over his boyfriend. Things went by entirely too fast, and before Blaine knew what was happening, they were drugging his boyfriend and rushing Kurt to the ICU. They had gotten him to breathe long enough to make the trip, but they intended to insert a breathing tube attached to a ventilator as soon as they could until he was capable of breathing on his own.

Blaine didn't know how much more he could take. The doctors and nurses made he, Burt, and Carole stay outside the room in a small waiting room outside the Intensive Care Unit ward while they tried to make Kurt's lungs work again. Not one of them spoke. They all seemed to want to be alone with their thoughts. Each one had gone completely numb.

Finally, _finally_, after what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Monroe came out with a cloudy expression on his young face. He looked like he had just been told someone had run over his puppy with an 18-wheeler – and he felt like it too. He remembered when his first child was born. How does one break the news he had to break to a family who loved their son and who was already so emotionally drained?

Blaine knew, without one word from the doctor's mouth he knew. It had turned one way. For the worst. He was already crying long before the doctor had arrived at their seats.

"Dr. Monroe!" Carole exclaimed hysterically, rising from her chair to stand in front of the doctor. Her eyes were begging as she asked, "What's happened? What's going on? How's Kurt?"

"Mrs. Hudson," he said, regarding her sadly, lowering and shaking his head.

"Doc?" Burt asked anxiously.

"Your son… he's breathing artificially, using a ventilator," Dr. Monroe said. "He's under the influence of a large number of drugs so he can't pull out the tube. But he has yet to start breathing on his own." He ignored the collective gasp from the group and went on, "At this point, the machine is the only thing keeping him alive. We can leave him on it, but it's quite painful from what I've heard and there's nothing indicating that he will be able to start breathing again, so we'd just be artificially keeping him alive. Or, we can turn it off tonight and just let it happen so he won't be in pain anymore." He posed his last remarks like a question.

"You… You're asking us to make the decision?" Carole asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Yes," Dr. Monroe said softly. "At this point, it is entirely your decision."

"Burt, how do we make this choice?" She asked. Burt was silent, his heart broken. This was it then. This was the end of everything he had held dear. A soft sob broke free from his chest and he shook his head.

"We have to," he said. He looked like a man who had aged fifty years in the last day.

"I'll give you some time," the doctor said softly, understanding how hard this must have been on the family and turning to go speak with another family in the room. Blaine drew his knees up to his chest. He was to the point where he couldn't feel a thing anymore, which he was somewhat grateful for. As he drew in on himself, he closed himself off to feeling any pain, pulling in anything that could be hurt. He felt like his own life was ending. He knew he'd never be able to live again, to love again after this. He realized that for ten years he'd been believing in and working for a lie; wishes didn't come true. A small voice in the back of his head kept telling him to give it more time, but he angrily suppressed it, internally yelling at it that he had no more time. This was it.

"What are we going to do?" Carole asked, and her voice was quivering. Her eyes looked shattered and reflected a crazy sort of light, the way any mother's would at the thought of burying her child. "Burt, we can't let them turn that thing off…."

"Carole, we have no choice," Burt said, taking her hands in his. "We can't let him suffer on that thing out of selfishness. There's a machine keeping my son alive now, not a soul. He's already gone. We can't make him stay here anymore just because we can't make ourselves live without him. We have to start thinking about Kurt, not what this is doing to us."

"But, sweetheart," Carole choked out softly, touching her husband's cheek. "I am thinking of Kurt. He'd never forgive us! Our baby…."

"I know," Burt said in an equally pained voice. "But it's what's best for him now." Carole buried her face in her husband's shoulder.

"I suppose… we have to turn off the machine," she murmured finally. "For Kurt."

"I'll go get the doctor and tell him our decision," Burt said, his whole body losing feeling.

"Okay," Carole said. "I'll call Finn. Do you think his friends should be here?"

"No," Burt said shaking his head. "I'll call Mr. Schuester and let him know, but they don't need to be here for this. This is hard enough for _us_. They're just kids." Carole nodded.

"Okay," she said, her lower lip trembling. She picked up her cell phone, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, and placed a call to her son.

Finn was sitting in a booth at Breadstix next to Quinn and feeling marginally better. In the back of his mind, he still had not stopped thinking of Kurt, but he couldn't deny he was having a good time with Quinn. She somehow knew how to make him feel better and take his mind off his problems, and for that he was grateful. Suddenly, his phone started buzzing. When he saw it said mom, his heart actually skipped a beat or two. Quinn had been telling a story, but he held up his hand to stop her.

"Quinn, hold on," he said apologetically, unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "It's my mom."

"Oh," Quinn said, and her eyes widened. "Oh no."

"It could be good," he mumbled, mostly to reassure himself. He took a deep breath and picked up.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Finny?" His mom asked. In one word, Finn knew. Her voice was an octave closer to hysteria, and her tone was heartbroken. Finn swallowed hard.

"Yeah, mom?" He asked. "Kurt…?"

"He stopped breathing," Carole said slowly, carefully. "They have him on a machine, but he's not going to start breathing on his own. Burt and I have made the decision to turn it off and let him go in peace without any… any pain." Her voice broke and she suddenly could not contain it any longer. She broke down crying into the phone. "I'm so sorry, Finn," she said softly. "You n-need to be here now."

"K-Kurt's… gonna die?" Finn asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Carole whispered. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, it's… f-f-fine," he said, starting to cry too, the moisture obscuring his vision. "I'll be d-down as soon as I can. Don't… don't do it without me, okay? I want to… to say goodbye." His voice cracked and he bit his fist to keep the tears from coming, but resistance was futile.

"Okay," Carole promised. "Get here as fast as you can, but be safe. Tell Quinn I'm so sorry." Finn could not speak. He nodded and made a very embarrassing whimpering sound. His mother understood. "I'll see you soon," she said.

"Okay," Finn squeaked, and hung up the phone, burying his head in his arms on the table.

"Finn?" Quinn asked, touching his shoulder anxiously. "Finn, is Kurt really going to die?" Finn raised his head slowly and miserably and nodded, his eyes rimmed bright red from crying.

"Yes," he murmured. "I have to go."

"Oh, Finn," Quinn breathed, taking him into her arms in a hug. Somehow, this didn't seem to comfort him. He pulled away as soon as he got the chance to and stood. He took Quinn's hand to help her up. He left some money on the table to pay for their meal, and Quinn told a waitress what was going on. The kind lady nodded understandingly and took the money, allowing them to leave.

"Finn, I can call a ride to pick me up," Quinn said. "You should go. Now."

"No," Finn said flatly. "Your house is closer to the highway. I can get to the hospital faster from there. Come on." They rode most of the way in silence, Finn's eyes never leaving the road, Quinn's head resting against the window pane.

"Finn, I'm so sorry," Quinn said earnestly.

"Yeah, me too," Finn said flatly, devoid of all emotion.

"C-Can I tell the others?" Quinn asked. Finn nodded.

"Yeah," he said, heaving a heavy sigh. "That would be great."

"Okay," she said, touching his arm lovingly. He indiscreetly shrugged it off. He pulled into her driveway.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" Quinn said gently. Finn nodded.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Don't worry," Quinn said. "Miracles do exist you know." Finn nodded, but he didn't believe a lick of it. What did Quinn Fabray, the girl who got absolutely everything, know about miracles? How could she say they exist if she'd never actually needed to invoke the power of one? As soon as she was safely in the house, he sped away toward the highway, his mind suddenly kicking into high gear. His brother Kurt was dying. And he needed to be there.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Carole was holding Burt's hand. He had told Dr. Monroe what they had decided to do. It had involved a lot of paperwork, a lot of tears, and a lot of heaviness of heart. Blaine had halfheartedly texted his parents what was happening. Both sent their condolences, but they had no idea what Blaine was really going through. They didn't understand that this was the legitimate end of his world. He sat motionless in the chair, waiting for Finn to arrive so they could say goodbye and get it over with. The impending doom of what was to come was killing Blaine more than anything else.

"I hope Finn gets here okay," Carole said worriedly, looking out the window at the snow and ice covering the hospital grounds and the roads nearby.

"He will," Burt affirmed softly.

Back out on the road, Finn entered the highway without much trouble.

He had not been expecting icy roads at the beginning of March during Lima's spring break, just like the Friday before. He was terrified of driving on ice, especially when he was in such a rush, but his step brother was dying, and for that he knew that, ice or no ice, he needed to be there. He could not miss it. He would never be able to live with himself if he did, if he wasn't able to say his goodbyes. He started to pick up speed without realizing it, just the thought of Kurt dying slowly without him making him hurry. He knew that with ice it was easy to lose traction on the road, but he didn't care. He needed to get to that hospital as fast as was humanly possible. This particular stretch of highway was insanely slippery, but he refused to care, knowing he didn't have much time.

He rushed even more, and suddenly, his vehicle hit a particularly slick patch of road. Going as fast as it was, the car completely lost traction and started to spin out of control. He tried desperately to right himself, but then he lost control of the wheel, and although he tried to wrench it back into place, it was too late. It jammed. He skidded into oncoming traffic and was suddenly and almost immediately struck by a car that had too little time to stop when he accidentally slid into the lane. Somehow, he knew it was going to be this way. He realized what was happening a split second before it actually did. There was a deafening crash and Finn had the terrible sensation of being flipped over and turned inside out. The terrified teenager screamed in total fear and his final thought was, _Oh my God, please don't let this be the end._

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><p><strong>AN: I actually don't even know what to say now. *Please don't kill me*. But do review. Reviews are good. And... yeah. I've got nothing. :/ Hope you liked? Probably not the most appropriate statement... yeah I'm just going to stop now. Update comes sometime next week, so yeah.**

**~PG22**


	19. Miracles Happen

**Author's Note: Hello again my dearest readers. I'm sorry it took so very long, but I have returned with another installment. I hope absence has made the heart grow fonder.**

**I am genuinely sorry for causing such an uproar. I never knew I could cause such feelings in people, but some of the feedback I've received has been incredible despite your sadness and anger at me. I'm glad I had such an impact on you all, and I hope this chapter does as much as the last one.**

**I guess I probably should have said this long ago, but I am not a doctor, so some of the medical facts might be a little messed up. I apologize, and I hope it doesn't become too unbearably inaccurate. I also hope that you can overlook such minor mistakes. This is after all only my second fic attempt.**

**Thank you all for sticking with me even though I most likely ripped your hearts out. I actually sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter - really enjoy it, no matter what happens. This story, originally supposed to be a short little ditty for peacegal45, has taken me in a completely different direction than I expected and has been anything but short. It's been quite an interesting go.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Never have, never will. (This is probably a good thing actually...)**

**Please enjoy.**

**P.S., it was all you lovely readers that gave me the idea for the title of this chapter! )**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 19: MIRACLES HAPPEN<strong>

Dr. Monroe came to get the Hudson-Hummels and Blaine. Carole explained they were waiting for Finn.

"That's okay," Dr. Monroe said somberly, feeling nothing but deepest sympathy for the family. "We won't turn it off until your son arrives." He led them into the room Kurt was currently in. "Go ahead and have a seat," Dr. Monroe invited, and bowed his head. "Just let me know when your son arrives."

Carole, Blaine, and Burt sat in the small room without speaking or moving far. Kurt's parents hovered over their son, chock full of emotion and nervously awaiting the arrival of Finn. Carole could not make herself stop crying, and Burt found himself tearful and incredibly afraid as well. This had faced him one other time, when his first wife died. He wasn't sure which was worse: losing her or losing Kurt.

Kurt laid there, chalky white and motionless. He trembled slightly although covered with a blanket, and his face was sweaty. His cheeks were flushed, but his face was otherwise completely drained of all color. His eyes were not open, and he was almost entirely nonresponsive. There was a tube down his throat, forcing his mouth halfway agape and forcing air into his dormant lungs. Carole was getting impatient and worried. She wanted her own son there, to know he was off the roads and safe, even if it was to say goodbye to his brother.

Carole Hudson was the first contact listed in the ICE section of Finn's phone, and so it was she who got the call once the scene of the automobile accident had been investigated and victims taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital. She answered it standing up and wiping her tears, but once the man spoke, she immediately crumpled to her knees and screamed, "NO!" This startled everyone around her except Kurt, who could not hear. She instantly began to sob, uncontrollably, unabashedly. "Finn!" She screamed hysterically. Burt rushed over to her in alarm.

"Carole?" He asked anxiously. "Come on, talk to me, honey, what's wrong? What happened?" Carole couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't move. She was crying hysterically and shoved the phone at Burt.

"Hello?" Burt asked uneasily.

"Hello, who is this?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"This is Burt, Carole's husband," Burt answered. "What's wrong? What happened to Finn?" He had a sinking feeling he already knew.

"We regret to inform you that your son Finn has been in a very bad accident. We have an ambulance transporting him to the nearest hospital as we speak, but we don't know if he's going to survive the trip." Burt was rendered incoherent, but not as entirely speechless as his wife at the news.

"Finn… he's… there was… accident…?" He stuttered, stumbling over his words and sitting down hard. "Is he okay?" He demanded.

"No sir," the man said. "It didn't look good. We found him in critical condition, barely alive."

"Oh my god," Burt said, at a loss for words now.

"He's being transported to the Lima Hospital's Intensive Care Unit, if you wish to be there."

"Yes," Burt said. "Okay." He was shaking. Was it possible for fate to be so cruel as to issue his family a second death simultaneous with the first? He decided that yes, yes it most certainly was. "Thank you," he added stiffly, though he certainly did not mean it.

"Of course," the man said, and hung up. Burt helped Carole stand, but her knees were shaking, and she closed her eyes, leaning into her husband, shaking her head and just repeating her son's name over and over in disbelief. Blaine could only guess Finn had been in a bad car accident, which was unbelievable. How was it possible that one family had to endure so much in one day? He was too numb to properly feel much else but total disbelief. Things looked bleaker than bleak at this moment.

What nobody had been counting on was that Kurt was not entirely nonresponsive. In fact, he was slowly, agonizingly slowly becoming alert. He knew with absolute certainty that in order for everything to be okay, it was all going to weigh heavily if not entirely on him being able to breathe again. He was able to test the waters by trying to take a breath using his own muscles, but his brain was not thinking properly and his chest could not fill thanks to the amounts of mucus that had pervaded his lungs and the tube in his throat, and he just barely realized that when they took that tube out of him and stopped delivering oxygen to his brain, he was going to either have to start breathing or crush his parents,' friend's, brother's and boyfriend's hearts. Everything rested squarely on him.

Kurt tried hard to regain control of his body. To him, it felt as though he had been thrown out of the chair at the control panel of his own body by an invisible yet powerful force and locked in a cellar. If he could break out, he could take back control of what was rightly his and breathe again. He tried with all his might. He forced himself to think, to breathe, to live. He struggled a little at first, but soon, he was starting to break out of his metaphorical prison. He thought of Blaine and his father and Carole, of Finn and his friends at Glee Club. He tried all the harder. He would not let pneumonia beat him.

"Carole, he's going to be okay," Burt promised hollowly, trying to console his wife. His happiness was crushed. He felt as if the sun would never shine again after this wretched day, a day that was to take both Kurt and Finn away from them in one swift stroke.

"I have to see him!" Carole said, pulling out of Burt's arms and running for the door. She planned to dash out and run until she found the ambulance with her son and saw him again. She was distraught and not actually listening to Burt or anyone else. Burt took her by the arm before she had the chance to run out and spend time looking for Finn, who at this point he realized was most likely already at the hospital and being treated.

"They won't let you in the room," Burt said rationally. "All we can do is let them know we're here for him and wait."

Blaine found himself idly folding a scrap of paper in his pocket into the intricate crane figure. It was a shame he had not thought to count in his room, he thought again. Perhaps this was why the wish had not worked in the first place; he didn't have enough cranes yet. Something in his head told him to find one more paper to fold and wish again. And so he did. He got a piece of paper from the bedside and folded it into the shape of a crane. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew with absolute certainty he now had a thousand. He closed his eyes, cupping that single white paper crane in his hand, and wished for Kurt and Finn to come out of these ordeals alive. He almost had forgotten to add Finn to the wish, but he knew as soon as he began wishing that he would not have done it any other way. He knew now the bond that existed between Finn and Kurt and how one would never be able to live without the other.

"Burt, we can't take Kurt off that machine," Carole said softly. "We can't." Burt closed his eyes. Of course, he agreed with his wife. He didn't want to say goodbye to both his sons any more than he wanted to get shot with an elephant bullet. But he knew this had to be done, and had to be done now.

"We have to, Carole," he said quietly. "There's no other option. It… it would take a miracle now."

Blaine took Kurt's hand and kissed it softly, sure it would be the last time he ever could. This was the moment of truth now. All his life he had believed in dreams and in miracles and the power of wishes. And he had even believed in true love. Now that it was all being taken away from him, he felt stupid, incredibly stupid, for ever being ignorant enough to believe in it. He squeezed Kurt's cold, limp hand gently, thinking of the first time he'd ever laid eyes on the countertenor at Dalton and how charming and adorable he had been. They had come so far to get to this point. The worlds of the Hudson-Hummels' were ending, and Blaine's world… there was no better description than to say it was quickly fading to black. Blaine's tears fell bitterly onto the pale white of Kurt's skin.

"Please wake up, baby," Blaine begged. "Please, come out of this."

But alas, miracles do exist. There was unspoken power in the love of Kurt's family and friends, and in that one selfless, pleading wish made by one Blaine Anderson on some one thousand origami paper cranes.

Burt had just called for Doctor Monroe, and Blaine was sitting sobbing across from a similarly occupied Mrs. Hudson-Hummel when a noise from above him startled him into looking up. A monitor that had been dormant and ominous before was now coming alive, alerting to something Blaine was not sure of. When Dr. Monroe entered the room, Blaine notified him.

"Dr. Monroe," he said. "Something's beeping." Dr. Monroe looked at it, and for the first time in nearly two days, broke out in a radiant smile.

What happened next was mostly a blur, but would forever find itself etched in Blaine's memory. Dr. Monroe called in some more doctors and nurses, who talked in doctor's jargon that Blaine did not understand, but from the excited way they spoke, he could gather that it must be something good. Dr. Monroe asked the Hudson-Hummels to step out of the room for a moment.

"Why?" Burt asked. "What's going on?"

"I don't quite know yet, Mr. Hummel," Dr. Monroe said. "But it looks as if miracles do exist. Your son is fighting back." Tears of sadness quickly changed to tears of joy as Mrs. Hudson again broke out in sobs, this time of relief. No one in the room could believe this strange but not at all upsetting turn of events. The Hudson-Hummels started to leave, and Blaine reluctantly released Kurt's hand and stepped out with them.

"Does… does this mean Kurt's going to live?" He asked them once out in the waiting room.

"I'm not sure," Burt said cautiously. "But maybe." There was a new hope in his voice. He refused to let himself become too hopeful. This was just the doctor's speculation after all. There were no guarantees.

Meanwhile, Finn couldn't see or feel anything. He was in a dark, cool, dry place. He looked around; there was nothing to be seen. He felt somehow trapped, with no way of finding a door or window or anything else. He was completely disoriented and detached from reality. He could hear a melee of loud noises somewhere a little ways from where he was, but he could not identify who or what was making the sounds, and they were muffled besides. He lost track of everything and drifted off into a limbo of his own.

Doctors and nurses were rushing about, trying to save the teenager. Tourniquets were applied, bleeding was stopped, blood transfusions were given, machines were hooked up, oxygen was used, and analyses were performed. Broken bones were noted to be set and casted as soon as they got the chance. The doctors were well-practiced, level-headed, and prepared, and things worked like clockwork. Suddenly for the young man, conditions went from critical to stable.

After what felt like hours of waiting for Kurt's family, but was really only about an hour, the verdict came about him. Nobody quite knew how it had happened or why, but Kurt Hummel was going to live. The doctors planned to keep him vented for the next day or so, but miraculously, his lungs had started to work again, and he was also partially breathing on his own despite the machine. They had been able to lower its intensity, and if all went well, he'd be off it in the next day or two.

Doctors would go on to chalk it up to a medical miracle. The nurses were in agreement, saying that somehow, his body had finally started to respond to the antibiotics they had been giving him. Families of other patients in the ward who were in a similar situation and heard the good news called it things like fortune, luck, and fate. But Blaine Anderson knew better. It was best put by the sick boy's parents: Mr. and Mrs. Hudson-Hummel had jumped up and hugged one another, calling it a miracle. And that's exactly what it was: a miracle. Blaine felt like dancing for joy and crying his eyes out at the same time. He didn't know how or what to feel anymore, especially knowing that Finn was still in bad shape. He couldn't help but feel relieved and immensely grateful, however, that his boyfriend was going to pull through. The doctors had asked for limited visitors the next few days, and when they went in, they were to go one at a time. Despite such small drawbacks, nobody could believe this amazing turnaround.

But that wasn't the extent of the joy. About an hour or two later, news came to the Hudson-Hummels and Blaine about Finn.

His right arm was broken, as was his left ankle from where he had fallen once the car landed. He had a concussion and some deep wounds. But thankfully, there had been an angel watching out for Finn Hudson. He was expected to live, and moreover, there was no spinal cord damage whatsoever – an absolute miracle.

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><p><strong>AN: See, I told you guys you'd be pleasantly surprised. I'm not that heartless yet! Just so everyone knows, there will be at most two to three more updates after this. I'm definitely coming to a close now. I want to thank you all for making this so successful and making me feel so welcome on this site. Thanks for sticking with me even when I did some bad things. I hope this and the next few chapters make up for it. Reviews would be wonderful. Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and your generosity with commenting. See you soon!**

**Ciao!**

**~PG22**


	20. Landslide

**Author's Note: Well, this took way too long to come out! Goodness. But I know how much you all loved this story, and I've seen all the pleas to finish it, so here goes nothing. This was really hard to do. I always have trouble with meaningful endings. My stories tend to be strong at the beginning and middle, but either I don't finish or my ending cheapens the whole story. I really wanted to just leave the ending open to imagination, but so many of you wanted a clean finish, and honestly, so did I. I just really didn't know how to do it.**

**I hope this doesn't cheapen the value of the story as a whole. This will be my first completed mulitchapter fic on this site, so it's quite a milestone for me. I hope you all enjoy it!**

**So many of you have also been inquiring about my collaboration with the amazing KurtandBlaineGleek. I just want to mention that it's nowhere near over, but we both needed some time. The next chapter goes over to her, and I'm positive it's going to be fantastic. So be on the lookout!**

**Disclaimer: For the final time, Glee does not belong to me.**

**Thanks for being so patient with me, and please enjoy the final installment of "Baby It's Cold Outside."**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 20: LANDSLIDE<strong>

The next few days passed by, and Blaine was in a complete fog. Never in his life had he ever seen anything so spectacular. Kurt was healing. He was finally responding to the medication that had been pumped into his system the last few days. He was going to survive. And Finn too, from such a bad car crash. If Blaine had never witnessed a miracle before, he was surely witnessing one now.

Over the next week, visitors were not permitted in neither Finn's nor Kurt's room. For this reason, Blaine was actually able to go home, breathe a little easier, and get some much-needed sleep. He called back all his Dalton friends who had wanted to hang out and told them what was going on. All were quite supportive.

Finally, _finally_, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting for his chance to go talk with his boyfriend, on the first Monday back at school after spring break, when he arrived at the hospital after school, Mr. Hummel told him he was allowed to go visit Kurt. Carole was currently visiting with Finn. Blaine walked down the hall from the waiting room to the hospital room with a pounding heart. Nobody in the ward paid him any mind – why should they? He shuffled by them all silently before finding the room. He could tell the lights were out. Carefully, he slid open the door and peeked inside.

Kurt was lying comfortably in the bed, his face pale, his cheeks sallow, his eyes halfway shrunken in and bloodshot. He looked so much thinner than Blaine remembered. His breathing was shallow and Blaine could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest from under a heap of blankets. Kurt was also hooked up to multiple machines and tubes, but to Blaine's relief, a ventilator was not one of them. He did however have the telltale oxygen tube hooked up and placed beneath his nose. The Warbler stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. At the slight noise, Kurt looked up and smiled weakly.

"Blaine," he said, as enthusiastically as he could manage, and in that one name, Blaine realized Kurt had been missing him just as much as he had been missing Kurt. In two strides, Blaine was at the bed and taking the frail Kurt into his loving arms. There were tears in his eyes.

"Oh my God, Kurt," he said, and his voice quivered and broke. "Oh, thank God. I'm so glad you're alive."

"Me too," Kurt joked weakly. "But you all aren't getting rid of me that easy." He was joking again, Blaine realized. That was a good sign. He let his boyfriend go and eased him back down into a lying position. He then took a seat on the familiar chair by the bed.

"How do you feel?" He asked, indiscreetly wiping his eyes with his hand.

"So much better," Kurt said with a sigh. "Blaine, I don't know what happened, but the medicine finally started working, for no reason at all."

"I know," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand. "The doctors said it was a medical mystery. You were supposed to die." Kurt was silent for a long time. Blaine did not rush him to speak.

"I heard about Finn," he finally said. "He survived too. With just a few broken bones. That can't be accidental, Blaine." Kurt looked at him meaningfully. Blaine realized with a start that the countertenor was waiting for his theory on what happened.

"I don't know," Blaine said. "I feel like there should be an explanation, but there is none. It's like… a miracle. You know, like when things that seem impossible become possible?"

"I know what a miracle is, Blaine," Kurt said jokingly. "The disease killed my lungs, not my brain." Blaine couldn't help but chuckle. He'd missed diva-Kurt, more than he was ever really going to be willing to admit.

"Do you believe in them is the question," Blaine countered.

"Now I do," Kurt said, and stared deeply into Blaine's eyes. Suddenly, Blaine remembered the last crane he had crafted. He had kept it with him as a token at school to remind him to be strong for Kurt. He pulled it from his pocket and fluffed it back into shape. Kurt trained his eyes on it.

"Is that…?" He asked incredulously. He could not finish the sentence.

"Number one thousand," Blaine replied. "I folded it up right before they were going to pull the plug. And I made my wish." He didn't know if he believed that a wish on a few paper statues was enough to bring his boyfriend back from the near-dead, but he didn't feel like debating it at that point.

"Here," he said, and gently placed it in Kurt's other hand, the one Blaine was not currently holding for dear life. "I want you to have it. I know you don't believe in a higher power, and that's totally fine with me. But something, or someone, somewhere was looking out for us, and this crane… well, I used to believe it. Maybe I still do." Blaine realized he was rambling about how contradicted he was feeling inside his own head. Kurt smiled slightly.

"Funny, Blaine, I've never known you to be the indecisive type," he quipped. After a "look" from his boyfriend, he leaned upward toward him.

"Thank you," he whispered. Blaine moved in a little closer, and their lips met. Kurt wound his arms around the back of Blaine's neck, and his fingers tangled in Blaine's curls. Blaine pulled Kurt in close ever so softly, two gentle hands pressed on his back. They stayed like that for a long moment, savoring the kiss.

"I'm so glad you didn't die," Blaine said.

"I'm glad I didn't die too," Kurt said, and both started laughing, which started Kurt coughing again, which made one of the machines he was hooked up to go crazy for a second, before quieting down along with his paroxysms.

"Maybe we should save the jokes for after your better," Blaine suggested. Kurt simply shrugged.

"If I don't laugh I might cry," he confessed. Blaine smiled.

"Me too," he admitted. They sat in silence just staring at one another for a long time.

"Thank you," Kurt finally said.

"What for, baby?" Blaine asked.

"For being you," Kurt responded, "and for being mine." He leaned over for another kiss.

The entire McKinley High Glee Club was waiting outside one week later to welcome two of their members back to school after a long separation. Kurt Hummel and Finn Hudson stood side-by-side as they bravely made their way up the walk to the school building. Kurt was armed with an inhaler and was trembling slightly from all his body had endured the last few weeks and the steroid medication he had been given to keep his lungs in check. He still would not be singing for another week until he was completely recovered, but he was allowed to return to school. Finn was in a walking cast for his ankle, which had begun to heal in the last two weeks, and had a cast up his left arm to his elbow. The brothers had both been through a lot, and their friends had been right there with them every step of the way. The McKinley kids had come to visit the boys daily after school was over until they had finally been discharged from the hospital. There were hugs and loving words exchanged as the New Directions reunited.

"Thank God you guys are alive," Quinn said, hugging both of them. She had been the one to alert the others about Kurt's situation, and had also been the first told about Finn's accident. She squeezed Finn's good hand tightly. "I've missed you," she whispered.

"Missed you, too," Finn said with a small smile.

"Okay, okay, enough of the love fest," Santana quipped. "Let's just all hug and get on with life." Nobody could suppress their laughter.

Finn brought news of being out of his ankle cast soon, but that he still had to grapple with his concussion and his broken arm for a while yet. That meant no contact sports or videogames, which he was sort of bummed about. Kurt said his lungs were looking a whole lot better and just needed a bit of rest to recoup. Nobody could have been happier for them.

"I'm calling a celebratory Glee Club meeting today after school," Mr. Schue said. Rachel opened her mouth to make a request, but was cut off by Will. "Yes, Rachel, we can sing 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.'" No one could help but laugh, including Rachel herself.

Blaine came all the way from Dalton that afternoon for the special Glee Club meeting being held after school in honor of Kurt and Finn. He sat in a red, plastic chair right next to Kurt, hugging him close from around his tiny shoulders. The cold, harsh, cruel winter had gone away, he realized, replaced by the fresh beginning of spring. The weather was even cooperating now. He squeezed Kurt's shoulders lovingly. They had survived the storm. Now it was just smooth sailing from here on out. Blaine realized how much he had come to really care for Kurt, care for him to the point of loving him deeply, with whole heart and whole soul. He thought about saying something, but decided to save it for another day and just enjoy this moment in Kurt's company where he wasn't sick or on the brink of death.

As they listened to the song together, performed by some of the best voices in Glee Club (aka, Puck, Rachel, and Sam), Kurt realized he'd been given a second chance to really look on the bright side of life for a change. He knew he never would forget to, not after what he'd been through. He smiled from where he sat in his chair. Recovery was going to be the easiest part, he told himself. He kissed Blaine's hand and clutched tighter the little object in his own: a small paper crane, Blaine's 1000th. A symbol of love. A symbol of hope. A symbol of miracles.

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><p><strong>AN: So that's it. Oh my gosh, I'm going to cry. It is with great pride and genuine pleasure to say, The End. Thank you all for being such wonderful readers. Hopefully I'll have something new started very soon. Until then, you've been great. As always, please review, one final time. It's been so much fun to write for you all, and I hope to continue producing stories that will draw you in. Again, keep looking for the next part of "Christmas, Locked Doors, and Chicken Pox." We are not through yet! :)**

**Ciao, lovely Klainers!**

**~PG22**


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